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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23309809">Wanderer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanut12/pseuds/peanut12'>peanut12</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:22:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23309809</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanut12/pseuds/peanut12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Hawthorn has never stayed in one place for very long. She does what she has to do to get by and survive as best she can. When she steals from the wrong person, she finds herself dropped into a situation she never planned on being in. </p>
<p>Takes place before the events of RDR2.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur Morgan/Original Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I dusted off the front of my skirt the best I could as I headed into the saloon. This was the last dress that I had that wasn’t worn, ripped, and dirty, but I had to seem like I belonged in this town. It didn’t fit me perfectly, but it was better than anything else I owned. I felt my stomach growl as I brushed the last of the dust off, and I tried not to think about how long it had been since I had eaten. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had been following a man for a couple of blocks hoping that if I could manage to find his money it would be a good take, or at least enough for me to get a meal for myself. Based on what I saw in his hand as he bought a drink at the bar, I would at least get something out of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pulled my shoulders back and walked towards the man. I made sure to turn my head in the opposite direction as I walked closer to him, hitting him with my shoulder as I walked by. His full drink spilled all over him, and me, in the process. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So much for my last wearable dress</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I thought to myself. It would have to be a worry for another time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh goodness, sir, I am so sorry!” I cried, grabbing the man’s arm as if I was using it to keep my balance. As he tried to keep us from tipping over onto the saloon floor, I slipped my hand into his pocket to grab his money. He let out a sigh as he finally got us both stable on our feet. “It’s fine, miss,” he rasped in a tone that implied that it really wasn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I apologized one more time, quickly, before slipping between the people in the saloon and towards the back of the room. I had barely touched the back door when I heard that same raspy voice curse from the opposite side of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I picked up my pace as much as I could as I made my way out onto the street. He had realized his money was gone far sooner than I had hoped he would, and now I could hear him slam open the saloon door just behind me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I darted down a side street to my left, but it already seemed like the man was catching up. I could hear him calling out for me to stop, as if that would have made any difference at all. I did my best to weave my way between alleys and side streets hoping that I wouldn’t get myself lost in the process, but the man seemed to be just behind me each time. I couldn’t help but notice the shakiness in my legs as I moved around the town. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would have been able to lose him by now if I had a full belly, but at this point there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, I turned a corner into an alley between the doctor and the general store, ran to the end, and stopped. I couldn’t hear his footsteps behind me anymore. Maybe I really had lost him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I leaned back against the wall beside me, allowing myself to breathe for just a moment so I could slip away to my horse. My mistake came when I didn’t peek around the corner to make sure I could sneak my way across to the street. As soon as I started moving again, I was pushed against the wall and a gun pressed to my temple. He had caught up with me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You stole from me,” he growled, pressing the gun harder to my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t bullshit me, you know damn well!” His voice was raised now. Suddenly, he turned his head as we heard another set of footsteps coming around the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what do we have here?” the older gentleman that just joined us in the alley called. This was about to go either significantly better for me, or significantly worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She stole from me, Hosea,” the man responded. So they knew each other. Not a good sign for me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that point the other man, Hosea, had made it all the way over to where we were standing. “Well, why on earth would you let her do that then? Put your damn gun down, John, she’s just a girl.” The first man, John, paused for a moment before deciding to follow directions and holster his revolver again. While I didn’t necessarily appreciate Hosea’s description that I was just a girl, I wasn’t going to complain too much about getting out of that situation. He stuck his hand out to me. “Hosea Matthews, my dear. And who might you be?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I reached out and shook his hand. “Emma Hawthorn.” I noticed the way my hand trembled as I held it out to shake his, and from the curious look on his face he noticed too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Miss Hawthorn, Mr. Marston over here isn’t the easiest person to steal from. Color me impressed. Care to join us for a meal? Maybe we can pick up a trick or two from you.” My eyes caught on the various weapons strapped to both men’s belts. Even if I wasn’t as hungry as I was, I wasn’t sure that I would truly have a choice in the matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hosea, you can’t be serious,” John shot back at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but I am. Maybe even you can learn a thing or two from this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hosea offered his arm out to me and I took it, letting him lead us back to the saloon we had just left. John sulked and stayed farther back as we walked, but followed us nonetheless. The pit in my stomach grew as I tried to think of ways to get myself out of this situation. Who were these men? And did they know how to use their guns and knives as well as it seemed like they would? There was no scenario that I could imagine in which I left this town alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We found a small table to sit around in the saloon and Hosea sent John to the bar to buy our meals. As soon as John was out of earshot, Hosea turned back to me, taking my hand in his and looking into my eyes with a kind expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has it been since you’ve eaten, dear?” he said so quietly that I could barely hear him over the noise of the saloon. I thought for a moment before answering. What business was it of his when I had or hadn’t eaten? And how many different ways could this stranger use it against me if he wanted to? I looked up and met his eyes, and thought I noticed kindness and concern behind them. But that couldn’t be right, could it? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I may have eaten some berries I found yesterday morning,” I mumbled, casting my eyes down to the table again. I hated the way that sounded, like I couldn’t take care of myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hosea patted my hand gently. “Not to worry,” he assured me. “We’ll get you something now. Just make sure not to eat too quickly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, John returned to the table and placed the bowls of stew on the table none too gently. I slid one over to myself and took a bit, making sure to go slow as Hosea had recommended, but savoring every bite like it was my last. For all I knew, it could be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then, Miss Hawthorn,” Hosea was back to his regular speaking volume. “Tell us a little about yourself. Where are you from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged my shoulders, needing to think about how much information I was willing to give. “New Austin, I guess. I’ve moved around a bit, but spent most of my time in different towns around there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what brings you to the humble town of Spring Creek here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was...it was just about time for me to move again. Thought I might be able to make a little money here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you thought you’d be able to make some of that money from Mr. Marston here?” My breath caught in my throat. This is where my trouble was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to start. I glanced over at John, glaring at me from over his stew, before steeling myself and turning back to Hosea. To my suprise, I thought it was a kind look in his eyes where I was expecting anger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry yourself,” he continued. “Just trying to learn a bit about you, is all. You took the money, it’s yours as far as I’m concerned.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John dropped his spoon into his bowl and turned his glare from me over to Hosea, but the older man just waved his hand dismissively. “If you wanted to keep your money, John, you should have kept a better eye on it.” John shook his head but silently picked up his spoon and started eating again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?” I asked Hosea. “I mean, about letting me keep the money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely,” he smiled at me. “You’ve earned it. Maybe you can get yourself a new dress.” He motioned at the stains John’s drink had left as it spilled over the both of us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, Mr. Matthews, that’s not really a priority right now.” I turned my eyes down towards the table again and pushed my now empty bowl of stew away from me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got a horse, Miss Hawthorn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head, glancing up only briefly to find Hosea smiling at me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright, we’ve got room on ours. I’ve got a few friends I’d like you to meet not far outside of town, if you’d be willing.” He said this as if I almost had an option. The glint coming from the metal of John’s gun next to me reminded me otherwise. I took a deep breath and nodded my agreement, not trusting my voice right then. Quietly, I followed the men out of the saloon and to the street where two horses were hitched together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John, you’ll take Miss Hawthorn with you on your horse,” Hosea directed as he swung himself up into his own saddle. I could hear John curse under his breath, but offered his hand down to help me up behind him. They turned the horses quickly and started moving out of town. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried to keep control of my emotions as best I could behind John, but I realized as the town disappeared behind us that I was riding with outlaws. No one else would have the weaponry they do hanging off their hips, hats pulled low, and “friends” living outside of town. But I also couldn’t deny the kindness that I had seen in Hosea’s face and the concern in his voice when he asked when I had last eaten. Regardless of where they had gotten their money from, they took it out of their own pockets to feed me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But mostly, I had nowhere else to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had no money besides what I had taken from John earlier. I had no horse to get me anywhere, and no presentable clothes for me to fit in anywhere. I saw no other option for myself beyond going with them or becoming a working girl. And when I put it like that, going with these outlaws was the better option. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was pulled from my thoughts by a shout of “who’s there?” from someone I couldn’t see in the trees. “It’s us!” John yelled back from in front of me. I didn’t see the man standing nearby with a gun until we had already passed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hosea and John rode their horses up to a hitching post before dismounting. Hosea even reached a hand up to help me down when John stalked off quickly. As I looked around, I realized that this was going to be a lot more than “a few friends,” as Hosea had told me. There were a myriad of tents set up around the area, multiple campfires burning, and people bustling about without much more than a glance in our direction. Hosea offered his arm to me just as he did outside the saloon and walked with me across the camp. He offered quiet greetings to some of the people in the camp as we passed, but none stopped for further conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We slowed as we approached a large, white tent towards the center of the camp. A well-dressed man lounged just outside of it with a book in his hand and a cigar between his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dutch!” Hosea called out, and the man looked up in response. “I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The well-dressed man, Dutch, stood up as we joined him. “Dutch Van der Linde. And who might this be?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Miss Emma Hawthorn,” Hosea supplied. “Found her near the saloon in Spring Creek after she managed to steal some money from John.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch took the cigar out of his mouth as the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk. “That so?” he drawled. “You pick pockets often, Miss Hawthorn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only if I need to,” I answered honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch nodded, glancing back at Hosea before turning his attention back to me. “And I take it you had that need today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Respectful, too. Very good. Well, Mr. Matthews seems to think there’s something special about you, my dear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked back at Hosea who offered me an encouraging smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not so sure about special, but I can hold my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No doubt you can,” Dutch smiled. “Now I won’t beat around the bush, we could use someone like you around this camp, Miss Hawthorn. If you pull your weight we’ve got a place for you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what exactly does pulling my weight entail?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smart girl.” Dutch sat back down, but never took his eyes off of me. “There’d be chores around the camp, things like washing and cooking. But then we’d also need you to use those sticky fingers of yours periodically.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t deny that I had been a relatively successful thief. It wasn’t hard to play the damsel in distress or clumsy woman who doesn’t know any better to make a few bucks when I needed to. But up until that point, I had only done it when I absolutely had to. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to continue stealing, but the allure of a place to lay my head each night and warm food in my belly every morning was too strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can manage that,” I finally told him. His smile grew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I am happy to hear it. Welcome to the family, Miss Hawthorn.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After speaking with Dutch, Hosea walked with me back toward the center of the camp, stopping for a moment to talk to an older woman as she walked by. “Miss Grimshaw, I have a favor to ask of you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I do for you, Mr. Matthews?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was hoping you could find an extra bedroll for Miss Hawthorn here. Maybe get her set up in the tent with Tilly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman nodded before bustling off, seeming just as busy as she did a moment before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Grimshaw will make sure you have everything you need,” Hosea promised me, motioning to a small table nearby for me to sit down. “She’s the one who makes sure everything is in order around the camp. And that over there,” he pointed to a girl in a yellow dress working on the washing, “is Miss Tilly Jackson. We’ll get you set up in her tent with her, at least for now. She’s a sweet girl, I think you’ll like her. And the other two with her are Mary-Beth Gaskill and Karen Jones. Miss Jones can be quite the firecracker when she wants to be.” Hosea laughed to himself a bit as his eyes drifted over the camp looking for who else he could point out to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Simon Pearson who does the cooking for us. Although he usually cooks what Charles Smith hunts. That’s him over there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried my best to keep up with everyone that Hosea was naming, but it seemed never ending. There were so many more people in this camp than I had originally thought, and Hosea even mentioned a few that weren’t there right at that moment. As he kept talking I could feel my smile starting to fall, wondering what on earth I had gotten myself into. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry yourself, dear,” Hosea put his hand gently on mine as he noticed the change in my facial expressions. “We’re all friendly enough around here, for the most part.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a deep breath and nodded. “I think it’s just a lot to get used to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, why don’t we try to take your mind off of it for a while? You ever played dominoes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help the small smile that reappeared on my face. “It’s been a while, but I think I remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, did I hear y’all are playing dominoes?” came a woman’s voice from over my shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to join us, Abigail?” Hosea motioned to the empty chair next to him and the woman sat down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned to her and stuck out my hand. “I’m Emma Hawthorn,” I introduced myself. She shook my hand with a warm smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abigail Roberts. You staying with us for a bit?” Hosea began shuffling and dealing the tiles as we chatted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you ever need anything around the camp I’d be happy to help.” She flashed a bright smile my way as we started our first round of dominoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As we played throughout the afternoon, my attention kept being caught by the sound of hoofbeats as different members of the camp made their way home for the day. First, there was Javier. Hosea told me about how when they found him he didn’t know any English yet and how he plays guitar around the campfire in the evenings. A while after him, Sean and Bill made their way into camp as well. Abigail was quick to warn me that Sean liked to be a flirt, but he was harmless. When a man named Micah rode in, Abigail's voice became much quieter as she leaned towards me to let me know to watch out for him. Hosea pretended he didn’t hear her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the sun began to disappear, the three of us cleaned up the dominoes and got some dinner from the pot in front of Pearson’s tent. I made sure to keep in mind Hosea’s recommendation from earlier in the day to eat slowly. It had been ages since I was able to find a full meal as regularly as I had so far today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hosea went off to chat with others around the camp while Abigail and I sat down with our dinner at the same table we were at that afternoon. I was pleasantly surprised with how easy it was to carry a conversation with her. She didn’t seem at all like what I would expect out of a woman in a camp full of outlaws - an outlaw herself. But, I suppose if someone came into the camp right at that moment they could say many of the same things about me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how on earth did Hosea find you, anyway?” Abigail asked me, pulling me from my thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I figured there was no point in hiding the truth at this point. Clearly, what had happened in town didn’t matter to Dutch and likely wouldn’t matter to anyone else here. “He found me after I stole from Mr. Marston and invited me back here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw Abigail’s eyes widen. “Who did you say you stole from?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Marston? I think they said his name was John?” It felt suddenly like I had made a mistake in telling her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her wide-eyed look turned into peals of laughter. I furrowed my brow, confused at her change in reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That dumbass!” Abigail continued laughing. She had to pause between words to catch her breath. “John’s my...my...husband!” Her laughter started anew. “Must’ve had it coming to him!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It finally dawned on me that she really did think it was funny. I made a mental note to keep an eye on the two of them together. Clearly, they must have an interesting dynamic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My attention was drawn to the entrance of the camp by the sound of horse hooves, just like earlier in the afternoon. I was surprised that there was someone else still returning to camp this late. The sunlight was all but gone by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Arthur Morgan,” Abigail filled me in. “Typical of him to be returning this late. Man works himself to the bone.” I could tell it was the truth as soon as he got off his horse. The man looked dog tired. He trudged his way across the camp, tipping his hat in greeting to a few individuals that he passed, and laid himself right onto his cot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail and I cleaned up our dishes from dinner and moved ourselves to the fire where others from the group had started to gather. I sat down next to the girl that Hosea had pointed out as Tilly earlier in the day. “You’re Miss Jackson, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scoffed. “Just Tilly. You must be Emma Hawthorn, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re just Tilly, then I’m just Emma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then, just Emma, looks like Miss Grimshaw set up your bedroll by mine. We’re in that tent, right over there.” She pointed over to a small tent, not far from Pearson’s wagon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, thank you for sharing with me Tilly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy to!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I spent the evening introducing myself and starting to get to know some of the people in the camp. Everyone that I talked to was kind to me, giving me friendly smiles and offers for help if I needed it. The conversations I had around the fire had me starting to forget that I was now living among outlaws. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before I found myself exhausted from the events of the day and made my way to the tent that Tilly had pointed out to find my bedroll. Both bedrolls in the tent were lying side by side, but the one on the right looked more slept-in. I curled myself under the blanket on the left, thankful that I at least had a tent over my head to sleep that night. This was a far cry from where I had been in the past weeks, trying to hide myself under trees or bushes to avoid the rain. While I wouldn't call myself comfortable in the camp yet, I would say I was content.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was amazing how much better I felt the next morning after a couple of real meals and a good night's sleep. I woke up feeling like I had control over my own body again. I stretched in my bedroll, not feeling much like getting out of bed that morning. At least, until I smelled coffee being made somewhere in the camp. I ran my fingers through my hair to tame it as best I could before leaving the tent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I found Arthur and John standing by the fire with cups in their hands. John’s jaw clenched as I walked up to them, but he didn’t say anything to me. “Morning’, gentlemen,” I tried to keep my smirk at John’s reaction to myself as I greeted them. Instead, I extended my hand towards Arthur. “Emma Howard,” I introduced myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took my hand in his. “Arthur Morgan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, Mr. Morgan, you got some more of that coffee you’d be willing to share?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, ma’am, I do,” he smirked but reached over to grab a cup and fill it before passing it over to me. John’s eyes were still trained on the cup in front of him, refusing to look up at me. It wasn’t lost on Arthur, though, as he glanced up at the man next to him before turning his attention back to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d you do to piss him off?” He tilted his head back towards John. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a sip of the coffee before responding to him. “Stole his money.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his eyebrows at me, surprised, for only a moment before his face changed into one of amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many times I gotta remind you to watch yourself, Marston?” I smiled into my coffee cup, entertained by the way Arthur seemed to tease and rile John like a brother. “Always getting yourself into trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you shut up, Arthur,” John barked back at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll shut up when you get your shit together,” Arthur chuckled. “I mean, look at you, getting your money stole by just a little girl like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile started to slide from my face. I had barely met this man five minutes before and here he was, talking about me like I couldn’t handle myself. Thankfully, it seemed like he was finished with his verbal thrashing of John. I finished my coffee, muttered a quiet thank you, and went to go find Miss Grimshaw to see what jobs needed doing for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ended up being told to help several of the other girls with the washing for the day. I found Tilly, Karen, and Mary-Beth already gatherling the last of the things they needed to get started. I sat right down with them, eager to get to know the girls as we worked throughout the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I learned quickly that Mary-Beth was an avid reader and writer. We compared some of our favorite books, and although I didn’t have any books of my own anymore she promised I could borrow some of hers. I had always loved reading when I was growing up, using it as an escape from reality, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had been able to sit and read for pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hosea was right when he said that Karen could be a firecracker. She had a sharp wit on her, making the rest of us laugh out loud several times with what she said. I also found she had a beautiful voice, as she started singing quietly to herself as there was a lull in conversation between the girls. I continued washing, content just to listen to her for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We took a break to get lunch from Pearson’s tent and came back to try and finish up our work. “So you never told us where you’re from, Emma,” Tilly said, scrubbing at a stain on the shirt in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All over the place, I guess. Spent most of the time when I was younger in different towns around New Austin, but I’ve moved around quite a bit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and me both,” agreed Tilly. “I used to run with the Foreman Brothers, and good Lord we used to have to move all the time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Karen scoffed next to me. “It ain’t like we don’t move camps, either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but not as often,” Tilly pointed out. “Those Foreman boys got themselves into so much shit, all the time. Always moving camps to get away from the law. It ain’t the same here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then, a young boy came up near us, holding a stick in his hand like a sword. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you, Jack?” Mary-Beth greeted him, a big smile on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good,” he responded before turning his gaze towards me. “Who are you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Emma. It’s nice to meet you, Jack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you play swords with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I laughed and held up the shirt that I was washing so he could see it. “I wish I could! I have to wash these clothes, though. Maybe when I’m done we could play.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, accepting my response better than I expected for a kid his age, and scampered off to go play elsewhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute kid. Whose is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Abigail and John’s boy,” Karen supplied. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh to myself, but she must have seen me before I could hide it. “What’s so funny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just that it seems like I can’t seem to leave John alone, and I don’t mean to do it. Stole his money in the morning yesterday, spent all afternoon playing dominoes with his wife after that, and now I’m promising to play with his kid later. Man can’t stand me.” I realized yesterday how quickly it became common knowledge around the camp that I had picked John’s pockets, so I didn’t try to hide it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll get over it,” Karen dismissed with a wave of his hand. “He’s always been moody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got any family?” Mary-Beth asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both my parents are gone.” Mary-Beth nodded in understanding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makes it easier, honestly,” Karen jumped in again. “Ain’t no one else you gotta worry about but yourself and people you chose to worry about. Makin’ your own family, and all that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t that sweet, Miss Karen,” a gravelly voice came from behind me. I turned to see the man introduced to me yesterday as Micah standing, his thumbs hooked in his gun belt and a greasy smile on his face. His eyes slid over the other girls before landing on me. “And who might you be?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emma Hawthorn,” I muttered before turning back around to the work in front of me. The way he leered at me made me feel like a piece of meat to him, just confirming the warning that Abigail had given me the day before. I decided not to try to be rude, but to keep any answers I’d give him as short as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Miss Emma, it’s sure nice to have a pretty girl like you around.” It wasn’t lost on me that he referred to me by my first name immediately when all the others around camp waited for my invitation to do so. “Hear you’re talented too, stealing off Marston.” I just nodded to acknowledge that I had heard him. “Well, I look forward to working with you.” He walked away laughing to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, I felt comfortable enough again to glance up at the girls. “Well, isn’t he a ray of sunshine,” I rolled my eyes as I finished up with the last shirt in my pile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even know the half of it,” Tilly chuckled drily next to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll be looking forward to it later,” I sighed. Just then, Pearson called that dinner was ready. The girls and I packed up the last of the laundry and made our way over to get something to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had barely filled up my bowl when Dutch called my name, waving me over to where he sat in front of his tent, just like when I had met him the day before. I passed my bowl off to Tilly as she found us a place to sit and made my way over to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You needed me, Mr. Van der Linde?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, call me Dutch. I wanted to talk with you for just a moment. First off, how are you liking camp so far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just fine, Dutch. Getting to know some of the people here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am happy to hear that, Emma. Now my dear, I do have a favor to ask of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would that be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you’re up for a little job?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Emma does her first job for the gang.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What kind of job are you thinking about?” I asked Dutch. I tried to hide it, but I couldn't help but feel a little excited that Dutch trusted me enough to ask me to help with a job and for a chance to prove myself around the camp a little more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing terribly hard,” he promised me. “Just a little bit of a con. You ever do much acting, my dear?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only a bit, when I absolutely had to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dutch nodded, considering. “The plan would be for you to pose as a working girl in a saloon in town, make friends at the poker table with one rather wealthy gentleman in particular by the name of James Miller. I’ll send in one of the boys after you and you’ll send him some signals when he joins the game. How does that sound?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can handle that,” I agreed, nodding. A smile crept over Dutch’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent, my dear. Why don’t you go see Miss Jones over there and see if she has some clothes that would be appropriate for the situation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I made my way back over to the table where I had left my dinner with the girls, still biting back the smile on my face. “Hey, Karen, would you mind helping me with something after dinner?” I asked, nestling myself between her and Tilly and digging into my dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatcha need, honey?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dutch said you might have some clothes I could borrow. I’m trying to pose as a working girl for a job tomorrow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Karen scoffed. “Clothes are just the first half of what you’re gonna need. We’re gonna have to get you all done up. But don’t you worry, I’ll get you ready tomorrow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded my thanks as she turned back to continue the gossip that had been going on with the rest of the girls at the table. On my right, Tilly nudged me gently with her shoulder, her eyes bright as I turned to meet them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dutch already has you working a job for him?” she asked excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess so. Just sending signals for someone else in a poker game.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still, you’re already pulling your weight for the gang! You only been here a couple days!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrugged, not quite sure what to say. “Maybe he...maybe he just wants to see what I can do, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You excited? Nervous?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had to think for a moment about how to answer that question. “Both, probably.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tilly smiled her bright, infectious smile. “You’ll do great, I know it.” I couldn’t help but smile back at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was preoccupied most of that evening, hearing what everyone said but never really participating in the conversations myself. Though I knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, I tucked myself into bed early that night, almost in the hopes that morning would come faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was past midday when Karen finally decided that I was ready to head to the saloon. I looked at myself at the small mirror she had in her tent. She had dressed me in a low cut blouse and a slightly too-tight skirt, pinned back my hair so a few curls tumbled over my cheeks, and even painted some makeup on my face. I had to admit that she had done her job well, although I couldn’t remember the last time I had spent this much time on my appearance, even with someone else doing all the hard work for me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I heard boots on the ground outside the tent just before the fabric was pushed aside, revealing Hosea. “You about ready to go, Emma?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a second, Hosea,” Karen answered for me, fixing the lipstick she had chosen for me. She stepped back and examined me with narrowed eyes for only a moment before declaring that was as good as it was going to get and unceremoniously pushing me out of the tent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Hosea,” I called, finding the man sitting at one the tables not far from Karen’s tent. “I’m ready to go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent!” he smiled at me, but didn’t move to get up. “Arthur’s waiting for you over there by the horses.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stopped and looked at him, confused. “You’re not the one going with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, not this time. But don’t you worry, Arthur will take good care of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I quickly tried to get control of my face again, remembering that this was my chance to prove that I belonged here. “I guess I’ll see you when I get back then,” I smiled at him. He gave me a friendly wave as I turned toward the hitching posts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I immediately saw Arthur Morgan standing near the horses, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he waited for me. I quickly but calmly made my way over to him, and he put the cigarette out under his boot as he heard my footsteps approaching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready?” he asked, already moving towards his horse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” I agreed. He swung himself up into the saddle and offered me an arm to help get up on the horse behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We were both quiet as we rode. I was a little caught off guard that Hosea wasn’t the one working with me today. He was the only man in camp that I had spent a significant amount of time with so far. Although, I supposed I would have to get comfortable with the other men at some point. I couldn’t help but feel a little stupid for just assuming that I would be going with Hosea. Dutch had never said that’s who it was, and this didn’t seem like the type of con that he would be a part of anyway. I did my best to push those thoughts out of my mind, realizing that if I was about to play a working girl I would need more confidence than I was feeling right then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I’ll drop you off a little ways from the saloon,” he called back to me. “You go in there by yourself and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Touch your nose for me to fold and your ear for me to keep going.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Understood,” I agreed from behind him, then fell silent again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before we had made it into town. He kept us away from the main street, but nodded his head toward a gentleman heading into the saloon. “That’s James Miller right there,” he turned his head towards me to keep his voice as quiet as possible. I nodded as he pulled his horse to a stop, dismounted, and helped me down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took a deep breath and made my way toward the saloon. As I opened the doors, I found it to be busier than I expected for this time of day. I put what I hoped was a sultry smile on my face as I looked around for Miller.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t hard to find the man, already settled into his seat at the poker table. He was loud and boisterous, making conversation with whoever was around him despite the cigar hanging out of his mouth. He let out a loud laugh before lifting his glass to his lips and draining whatever was left in it. Finding my way in, I lifted my chin and made my way over to his table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me get a refill for you, sir,” I purred, taking his glass from him. I had to fight against cringing at the sound of my own voice, but somehow managed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sure would appreciate it, miss.” His eyes roamed everywhere except my face. Despite the slimy feeling I got, I tried to sway my hips as I turned and took his glass back to the bar to refill it. I leaned on the bar as I waited for the new drink, and turned to see Miller’s eyes still on me. As ridiculous as I had felt walking across the saloon the way I did, it must have worked. I made sure to wink and blow a kiss before turning back around to accept the full glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Miller was waiting for me by the time I got back to the table. As I placed the glass down on the table, I leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Before I could pull away, he gently grabbed my hip and guided me to sit in his lap. I feigned a gasp and tapped him on the shoulder, looking up at him through my eyelashes and he leered back at me. His hand stayed in position on my hip as I shifted my weight on his leg just slightly to get comfortable and get a better view of his cards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was laughing too loud at some stupid joke Miller had made when I saw Arthur make his way into the salloon and towards the poker table. I made sure to keep my attention on Miller even as Arthur sat down and was dealt his first hand of cards. Despite how uncomfortable I felt dressed like this and sitting like I was, I kept reminding myself that this was my first real chance to prove myself to the gang. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through the first several hands that Arthur played at the table, it became abundantly clear to me how bad of a poker player Miller truly was. He had such obvious tells and his attention was more focused on me in his lap than it was on the cards in his hand. Even so, I kept feeding Arthur the cues he had mentioned earlier. I could tell that I was successfully keeping Miller’s glass full for him as after each drink, his hand drifted further and further over my body. I was even able to start convincing him to add more money to the pot when he really shouldn’t have been under the guise of whispering in his ear and flirting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hand after hand, I continued giving Arthur tips and giving Miller bad advice. Finally, even without my prompting, Miller leaned forward and pushed every one of his chips into the middle. I could tell he had nothing in his hand, so I reached up as if to check the earring dangling from my ear to let Arthur know to keep going. Everyone else had folded. The end was coming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, Miller’s glass was empty. I grabbed the glass and trailed my hand down his chest, smiling up at him. “I’ll be back with a drink when you win,” I promised. He didn’t even notice when the hand that had been tracing a line down his torso dipped into his pocket. I got up quickly and sashayed towards the bar, tucking his money clip away as I walked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I placed the glass on the bar and glanced back to the table. Miller’s attention was entirely on the card game now with so much money at stake. I left the glass sitting empty and slipped quickly out of the back door of the saloon, making my way towards the spot where Arthur ahd hitched his horse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur wasn’t far behind me, and I turned to smile at him as I heard his heavy footsteps approaching. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You win?” I asked, a true smile on my face for the first time all day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded and took out the wad of cash he had ended up with, smirking at me. “Half of this will go to the camp, the other half we’ll split,” he explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you might want to add this to it as well.” I took out the money I had taken out of Miller’s pocket and handed it over to him. He froze and looked back at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You pickpocket him?” It sounded like he was fighting to keep his voice under control. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Is that a problem, Mr. Morgan?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cursed and swung himself up into his saddle quickly grabbing onto my arm and yanking me up behind him. “We gotta get the hell outta here,” he muttered, spurring his horse out of town and back towards camp. He didn’t slow down again until we were well out of town. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell was that about?” I demanded, finally feeling like I could speak safely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” he shot back over his shoulder. “You’re the one not following the goddamn plan!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clearly the man couldn’t play poker to save his life, I don’t understand what the harm is in getting us a little bit more money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The harm</span>
  </em>
  <span> is that he was gonna notice his money was missing and we were missing any second, and then set the law on us!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wasn’t going to notice, and even if he did I could’ve gotten out of it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could have gotten out of it,” he scoffed. “I’d like to see that, dressed like a workin’ girl and a money clip hidden down your shirt.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you’re implying, Mr. Morgan, you should know that I can handle myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, I’m sure you can handle yourself just fine Miss Hawthorn,” he spat. “But today it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, now was it? If you’re in this gang, it ain’t gonna be just you anymore. You’re gonna get somebody killed some day making up your own plan like that.” He shook his head and fell silent, focusing again on the road in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stayed quiet behind him as well. It was stupid of him to get so upset with me when all I had done was earn more money for the gang and for him. We left quick enough that Miller wouldn’t have had a chance to make it to the law, let alone for the law to find us. Hell, I didn’t even have to show him the money I had pickpocketed from Miller if I didn’t want to. I could have kept it all to myself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And besides, what was he implying saying he’d like to see me try to take care of myself dressed the way I was? The clothing and makeup had nothing to do with the way that I could handle myself. If I wanted to pull that job all on my own without his help, I could have. I didn’t need someone to keep an eye on me, no matter what I was wearing. Arthur Morgan knew nothing about me, yet here he was making assumptions about me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We didn’t speak the rest of the way back to camp. When Arthur hitched his horse, I gave him the money from Miller’s pocket and he split it up three ways, giving my take to me and stomping away to the box that held the camp funds. I shook my head and made my way over to my tent to put my money away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had just changed into my own clothes and was leaving my tent when Abigail called to me from across the camp. I smiled and made my way over, sitting down at the table across from her with a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Heard you were running a job today,” she smiled at me. “How did it go?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Went fine, I guess,” I shrugged. “The mark that Dutch gave us was a complete dumbass, so I took a little extra from his pocket.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good for you,” Abigail laughed, patting my knee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not if you ask Mr. Morgan,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why, what did Arthur say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gave me an earful on the way back to camp about not following the plan and how I can’t handle myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abigail’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’m sure that’s not what he meant by it,” she assured me. “Arthur’s just...well, he’s not always so great with words. Means well, though. Just thinks it’s his job to take care of everyone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded, but didn’t say anything. I understood that she was just trying to make me feel better, to help me understand why Arthur acted the way he did. I knew from the way she talked about him that she held him in high regard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we play a round of dominoes?” I suggested, more just wanting to change the subject. She agreed quickly and got out the tiles, chatting idly as we played. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the evening was fine, but I couldn’t help it when Abigail’s words about Arthur kept floating through my head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He hadn’t meant it. He just wants to take care of everyone.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I could see that Arthur was incredibly loyal to Dutch and the gang. The girls talked about how they didn’t like to go out on jobs with many of the other men besides him. I had already seen him go out of his way to help finish jobs around camp that were left undone. He even sat and played with Jack just that morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was so much that Arthur Morgan didn’t know about me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First and foremost, I could take care of myself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I sat at the table with Javier, Sean, and Karen, my eyes narrowed slightly as I scanned the faces around me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m all in,” I finally decided, and pushed all my chips to the center of the table. Karen had already folded, but Javier peeked at his cards while Sean tried to size me up. I kept my face blank, but it didn’t take long for Javier to toss his card in, giving up, and Sean to follow his lead. I grinned as I showed them my hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You had nothing!” Javier cried. Karen cackled at the two men’s groaning as I raked up all the chips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the days went by, I found myself feeling more and more like I was truly a part of this gang. I spent my days doing chores around the camp and gossiping with the other girls as we worked. In the evenings, I sat around the campfire and sang songs with everyone else. The camp was starting to feel like home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This evening was no different. After the three others I was playing poker with decided they had lost enough money to me for one night, we made our way over to the campfire where Pearson was telling another story about his time in the Navy. Javier rolled his eyes at the man as he grabbed two beer bottles, one for me and one for himself. I nodded my thanks and found a spot on a log to sit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As I looked around, it seemed like just about everyone from the camp was around the fire, smiling and socializing. Jack was perched on Abigail’s lap. Mary Beth, Tilly, and Jenny were all crunched up together giggling like school girls. Sean and Karen’s were leaned in towards one another slightly, clearly flirting. My eyes drifted to Arthur, standing on the opposite side of the fire. For some reason, my gaze stayed there for a moment longer than I had meant to. I sighed and took a long swing from the beer bottle just to give myself something else to do. When I looked back across the fire, Arthur was looking at me as well. Scowling, I tore my eyes away from him as quickly as I could, turning my attention to the conversation next to me between Javier and Charles without really listening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This had been going on ever since we had run my first job together. I would catch Arthur watching me, just looking at me. Every time I would glare at him and look away. But I could never help myself from glancing back over at him a few moments later. All it ever did was piss me off, though. He moved with this absolutely infuriating swagger and had that condescending smirk on his face half the time. And I couldn’t look away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took another long drink from the bottle, lost in my thoughts. Sure, Arthur was pissing me off. I mean, how dare he imply that I didn’t know how to handle myself? But the longer I thought about it, I was starting to realize that I was just as mad at myself as I was mad at Arthur. I was mad that I kept finding myself looking at him. I was mad that my ears perked up every time I heard his rumbling laugh. I was mad that his smirk made me fight the urge to smile back at him. And I was absolutely livid that some small part of me wanted to get over what he had said to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tipped the bottle to my lips and drained the rest of it. As I tossed it onto the ground in front of me, I caught Charles looking at me fighting a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” he asked, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrugged. “I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind, with my new home and all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Understandable. Well if you want to get out of camp for a while tomorrow, I’m going hunting and wouldn’t mind a partner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t want me going with you,” I scoffed. “I ain’t never really done any hunting, doubt I’d be very good at it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing you can’t learn,” he shrugged. “Offer’s on the table if you want it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded to him as he started chatting with Javier again. I was half involved in the conversation this time, but still partially stuck in my own head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before I bid goodnight to those around me and headed towards my tent. Maybe getting out of camp was exactly what I needed. Get out of camp and get far away from Arthur Morgan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I got up early again that morning, like I usually did. Charles was just getting a pot of coffee ready when I emerged from the tent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You still looking for company?” I smiled brightly as I came over to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t mind it,” he met my smile with his own. “So you said you haven’t done much hunting before?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, not really. Be happy to learn if you’re willing to teach, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, thinking for a moment. “You got a bow? A horse to ride?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither,” I admitted, biting my lip. But he smiled reassuringly at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure I’ve got something you can use. I’ll go look for a bow if you go find someone’s horse to borrow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He poured each of us a mug of coffee before taking his own and heading off to try and find a bow for me to use. I looked around and found Jenny pulling her hair back, getting ready for the day. I made sure to bring an extra mug of coffee with me when I went over to talk to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled when she saw me, immediately reaching a hand out to take the coffee from me. “You ain’t coming over here just for a friendly chat,” she grinned. “What’cha need?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charles invited me to go hunting with him today, but I don’t have my own horse to ride,” I started. She waved a hand at me dismissively as she took a sip of the coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead and take Daisy then,” she told me. “She’ll be happy to get out for the day, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you so much, Jenny,” I couldn’t help the excitement in my voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just bring us back something good to eat!” she called over her shoulder as I went to go find Charles again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was already at the hitching posts, packing up a few items that he needed for the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready to go?” He asked, holding out a bow to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jenny’s letting me use her horse for the day,” I nodded, furrowing my brow at the weapon in my hands. “You’re going to teach me how to use this thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll get the hang of it quicker than you expect.” He tucked his own bow over his shoulder and swung himself into his saddle. I followed suit and tried to pull myself up onto Jenny’s horse quickly, but did so with far less grace than Charles did. Laughing at myself, I looked up to see Arthur standing near the fire, peering at me from under the brim of his black hat. The laugh died in my throat as I shot a glare in his direction and turned Daisy to meet Charles at the edge of camp where he was waiting for me. I swore I could feel him watching me as we started down the trail, but I absolutely refused to look back to check. I was leaving camp to be farther away from him, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin my plan already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles’ voice suddenly pulled me from my thoughts, just like he had the night before. “We’ll stop a little ways from the spot we’re hunting at just to get you used to using the bow first,” he explained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you really think I’ll be able to manage it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not terribly hard. I think you’ll surprise yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles fell silent again. I appreciated that he didn’t always feel the need to fill the air with conversation. Sometimes, that was perfect. But today, I just needed not to think about what was back at camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you come to join up with Dutch, Charles?” Although I was as friendly with the man as I was with anyone else in camp, he didn’t seem to often talk about himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been running with them maybe six months now. Was mostly on my own before that. Guess I just felt like I had been without a family for too long.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No family, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, not anymore. We lived with my mother’s tribe when I was growing up but we left when the Army came through and took my mother. Never saw her again. My father turned to the bottle, and I left when I was maybe thirteen or so. Haven’t seen him since. What about you? What happened to your family?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t lost on me the way that Charles, and just about all the others in the gang, asked about family. The question was always about what happened to them, not about things like when you were going to visit them. “My mama and daddy are both dead,” I sighed. “Just me now. Guess I was sort of the same as you, just got tired of being alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure seems like you’ve been doing just fine on your own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like to think I can take care of myself alright,” I chuckled. “Nice to have company for a change, though.” I couldn’t help but think that maybe the next time I ran a job, I could convince Dutch to send Charles with me. Clearly, he had a bit more respect for me than Arthur did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s been good to have you around,” Charles offered. “Especially now that John’s starting to get over your introduction.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was true, John was finally starting to at least look at me every once in a while. He would have to eventually, considering that I was starting to become closer to Abigail recently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles and I spent a little longer talking as we rode, comparing where we had lived and when. It wasn’t long until he led us just off the path and towards a clearing. We hitched the horses off the road near a small group of trees before taking the bows off our shoulders and heading towards the middle of the clearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Charles declared, looking around the area, “let’s get started. We’ll aim for that tree right there.” He pointed towards one of the thicker, taller trees with a large knot in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, then...what do I do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me how you think you would hold the bow. Don’t shoot it yet, just aim at that spot in the tree trunk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as I raised my left arm in front of me, the bow resting in the palm of my hand, and pulled the string back with my right. “Not bad,” he murmured, but still moved forward to fix a few things. He gently moved me around as he spoke. “Keep your shoulders turned so your left is in front, and keep that left arm locked out all the way. There you go. You’re doing a good job pulling the string to your chin, but make sure that right arm isn’t just hanging there. That’s it, pull the whole arm back, not just your hand.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles took a small step away from me and observed for just another brief moment. “Okay, now look exactly where you want your arrow to go. Take a deep breath in, and let it out as you release the arrow. Whenever you're ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did as he said and let out a breath before letting go of the string. I watched as the arrow cut quietly through the air and sailed just below and to the left of the knot in the tree that I had been aiming for. I lowered the bow again, grimacing at the tail of the arrow sticking out of the trunk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not bad,” Charles commented. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean, not bad? I didn’t even hit the knot!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you still hit the tree. And you weren’t far off from the knot. Here, try again.” He handed me another arrow, and I did my best to remember everything about how he had told me to stand as I raised the bow up again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep that elbow up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took in a breath, let it out, and let the arrow fly. That time, I hit the knot. It was the top right part of the knot that time, but still an improvement from the last attempt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles kept handing me arrow after arrow, giving me a small pointer here and there about how I was standing or holding the bow. While I still wasn’t as proficient as I thought I should have been, I couldn’t deny that each shot I took was better than the last. After a while, I turned to take another arrow from Charles to find that he wasn’t holding another one out to me like he had previously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s head out,” he said instead. “The spot I usually hunt isn’t far from here, and it sure seems like you can handle that bow now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded in agreement and slung the bow over my shoulder again. We mounted up and followed the trail a bit farther. We both stayed quiet as we rode this time, but it was only a few minute’s ride before Charles led us towards the tree line once again. Still staying silent, we hitched the horses and grabbed anything we needed from the saddlebags. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched as Charles paused for only a moment and looked down at the ground around us. “Should be able to find some deer this way,” he murmured, indicating that we start moving west from where we were. As I followed him I looked to see if I could find whatever he had found that told him where the deer would be, but I didn’t see anything. I just shook my head and followed him, assuming that he knew what he was doing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no sound coming from the man in front of me as he confidently made his way through the trees. I felt like I sounded like a herd of bison in comparison, my feet somehow finding every twig and crunchy leaf within a quarter of a mile. Even so, I did my best to stay as quiet as could, keeping my eyes glued to the ground to hopefully avoid the noisiest areas. I was so focused on my task that I almost ran straight into Charles when he stopped moving and put a hand up silently to warn me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could see a group of deer just ahead of us between the trees. I got the bow off my shoulder as slowly and quietly as possible, Charles doing the same but not bothering to raise the bow yet. I knocked an arrow and raised my arms, trying to keep in mind every correction Charles had given me earlier. I took a deep breath and let the arrow fly as I let it out. It sailed directly towards the deer I had been aiming for, but somehow two of the animals fell. Confused, I turned to Charles to find that he had knocked an arrow, raised his bow, aimed, and shot all without me hearing a thing. I found myself shaking my head again as we walked over to collect the deer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice shot,” he commented.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just got lucky that time.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you say.” He whistled for the horses and lifted his deer over his shoulder easily. I struggled to do the same as he loaded his onto the back of Taima, but was largely unsuccessful until he could come over and help me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Charles,” I huffed as he tossed the deer on Daisy’s back like it was nothing. “For everything, I mean. Inviting me to come along with you, and showing me how to use the bow, and all that. Means a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve enjoyed your company.” He wiped his hands off on his pants and turned to face me. “I’d be happy to have you along whenever you’d like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “You’ve got some natural talent. Maybe next time I can show you a bit about tracking, too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what, I think I’d like that. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime. Now let’s mount up and get these back to Pearson.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t fare any better getting my deer off the horse as I did trying to put it on earlier in the day. I could tug at it or try and lift it all I wanted, but couldn’t get it to move the way I needed it to. Charles was already depositing his deer at Pearson’s tent when I heard a chuckle behind me. I spun around to find Arthur smirking at me, cigarette dangling between his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gonna keep messin’ around with that thing or ask for help?” he drawled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glared back at him. Things had been going great. I hadn’t thought about him since I had left camp that morning. And here I was, back less than five minutes, and he had to go and ruin it all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what about you?” I snapped at him. “You gonna keep staring at me or come over here and help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled again, but put his cigarette out under his boot and made his way over to where I stood. He slid the deer onto his shoulder easily and ambled over to Pearson’s tent. This is exactly the opposite of what I needed to happen. The last thing I wanted was for Arthur to have to help me with anything. I stalked after him, chewing the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur deposited my deer close to where Charles was already at work skinning the other. “Arthur, do me a favor,” Pearson called from the other side of his tent where he was busy chopping vegetables. “Start skinning that other one there for me, too.” Arthur had barely reached for his knife before I shouldered in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got it,” I muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know how to do it?” Charles checked, glancing up from his work for a moment as I made my first cut. As I worked I made sure to turn so I was facing him as completely as I could and keeping most of my back towards Arthur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might still be learning how to hunt, but I’ll be damned if I can’t skin an animal. My daddy used to have some...well, I guess some traditional ideas of what work was appropriate for a woman. Always struck me as odd that he drew the line at killing an animal even to use it, but somehow being elbow deep in it’s innards was acceptable as long as it was ready for dinner.” I sighed and stood up as I finished, glancing over the deer to make sure I hadn’t missed anything before I excused myself to go clean up. I kept my gaze on the ground to avoid eye contact with Arthur as I walked by. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After scrubbing off my hands at the washing bin, I leaned over and splashed water on my face as well. I couldn’t understand why I was letting Arthur Morgan get under my skin the way he was. But I decided, right then and there, that I wasn’t going to let it happen any longer. It didn’t matter what that fool thought of me, I knew that I could handle myself and would continue to do so. After one more deep breath, I squared my shoulders and walked back into the camp. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I couldn’t say that I had wanted to end up in the back of a wagon with some giggling girls heading into town. But, that’s where I had found myself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The evening before, Pearson had announced that he was running low on some supplies and needed someone to go to the general store to stock up for him. Swanson piped up as well, requesting that someone stop at the doctor’s office for a few things while they were there. I jumped in as quickly as I could, offering to head into town first thing the next morning. I felt like I had been stuck in camp for years, each day filled with the same rotation of mundane chores. I was looking for any chance I could find to get out, even for a little while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as I had volunteered myself, Tilly piped up and said she’d like to go as well. Mary-Beth, Jenny, and Karen weren’t far behind her, either. Clearly, we were all feeling a bit cooped up in the camp, but I had been hoping to go alone to try and clear my head. Though, I supposed getting out of the camp with a group would still be better than staying here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I hadn’t realized until we were just about to leave that morning that Karen had gone and roped Arthur into driving the wagon. When I saw him by the horses, smoking a cigarette and waiting for us, I seriously considered giving up entirely on the outing. Instead, I took a deep breath and raised my chin, joining the rest of the girls by the wagon. I wasn’t going to let him ruin my day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We left Arthur on his own at the front of the wagon as we all loaded into the back. I leaned back and lit up my own cigarette as we started moving. I supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have someone else driving instead. As long as he kept his mouth shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what are you ladies planning on doing in town, anyway?” I asked. I doubted I would actually get any help from them with the errands, but didn’t really mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mary Beth shrugged next to me. “Keep our ears to the ground, mostly. See if we hear about any jobs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A couple of stiff drinks,” Karen added. I grinned at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that’s something I can get behind, right there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The saloon’s gonna be the only good place for information anyway,” Jenny pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, you can get good stuff other places, too,” Tilly disagreed. “You listen close enough in the inn you might overhear something useful. These men think they got soundproof walls or something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit,” Jenny scoffed, “it don’t matter much. We could come back to camp with less money in our pockets than we left with and still contribute more than Uncle.” We all burst out laughing at that, knowing how true it was. I even saw Arthur shaking his head up at the front of the wagon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What all does Pearson want you to get for him, Emma?” Mary Beth asked, trying to change the subject but still laughing at Jenny’s comment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you get him something that will make his cooking...well, make it better?” Tilly added sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mary Beth sighed. “Well, at least it’s gotten better since Charles has joined us,” she pointed out. “It’s not as bad when he gets good meat for Pearson all the time now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charles ain’t so bad to look at, either,” Karen giggled, wiggling her eyebrows. Mary Beth rolled her eyes, but the other girl caught her. “Mary Beth, you can’t tell me you don’t have a hard time looking away on them hot days when that man takes his shirt off to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Karen!” Tilly jumped in, “You hush about Charles. We all know Sean’s the one you got a thing for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now it was Karen’s turn to roll her eyes, but she smiled along with the rest of us anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ain’t as sneaky as you thought you was,” Jenny laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We continued this way for the whole ride, gossiping and ribbing each other. I even started to forget who our driver was for a few blessed moments. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur stopped the wagon at the edge of the town, not far from the main drag. He hopped down and moved to the back, offering a hand to each of the girls to help them down. I ignored it when it was my turn to jump out, not even bothering to look his way. I heard him sigh quietly, but he turned to address the whole lot of us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Meet over by the saloon later,” he drawled. He got a few nods or “see ya later”s in response as we all went our separate ways, meandering throughout the town.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I decided to stop at the doctor’s office first since Swanson only needed a few things there. A small bell dinged above my head as I opened the door. An older gentleman sitting at a desk looked up as he heard the noise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I do for you, miss?” He greeted me with a cordial smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just looking for a few tonics and medicines,” I explained. I listed the things that the Reverend had sent me to get, collected the bottles, and left quickly. I went back to the wagon to put the bottles away before heading back to the main road and into the general store. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This store was busier than the doctor’s office, with people milling about, looking at the products on the shelves and chatting with one another. I went about my business quietly, collecting the items that Pearson needed. I only paused for a moment, thinking about what Tilly had said in the wagon, before adding a few extra bottles of spices to my growing pile. I would just tell him that I had forgotten the list at camp and did my best with what I could remember. Even if he didn’t use the spices himself, I figured I helped him with cooking often enough that I’d be able to sneak some in myself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After paying for my items, I lugged the crates out of the store and loaded them into the wagon. I stayed there at the end of the street for a moment, brushing off my clothes and thinking about what to do next. My errands hadn’t taken as long as I had hoped, but I supposed there really was nothing else to do but head to the saloon and find some of the girls. I ambled my way back into town, taking my time and enjoying the fresh air as I went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny and Karen were already firmly planted in their own little corner at the bar by the time I pushed open the saloon doors, and judging by the number of empty glasses surrounding them, they were having a grand old time. I sidled up next to Karen, reaching for her full glass of whiskey and draining it before she could grab it herself. She wheeled around, ready to start trouble, before she realized it was just me and rolled her eyes instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You owe me two drinks for that,” she decided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose that’s only fair,” I conceded before tossing some coins on the bar for another round for all three of us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God damn I needed to get out of that camp,” Jenny sighed, wincing a bit at the burn of the whiskey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and me both,” I agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need another big job or something,” Karen cut in. “Picking pockets every once in a while just ain’t cutting it. Things have just seemed so...so boring, I guess.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced around as Karen spoke to see if there was anyone that might have overheard. The din around the saloon was loud enough that her voice probably wouldn’t carry, and no one was paying us any attention anyway. “Y’all hear any good information at all?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny shrugged. “Couple of coaches the boys might be able to hit, but not so sure they’re worth it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We fell quiet again, sipping at our drinks and glancing around the room for anything that might lead us into even a little bit of money. My eyes were drawn to the entrance as the doors swung open loudly, revealing a man dressed in more finery than the rest of the saloon patrons combined. I grimaced at the way his gaze lingered hungrily on some of the women that had the misfortune of standing near him, but Karen’s face lit up as she adjusted her blouse to hang even lower on her chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that, ladies,” she nodded towards the man, “looks like an opportunity if I’ve ever seen one.” Jenny and I watched as she strutted toward the man at the bar, her hips swaying seductively as she went. She stopped right next to him and leaned up to the counter to get herself a drink, pressing her chest to the bar as she did so. The gentleman didn’t even pretend to hide the fact that he was eying her, but she acted like she didn’t notice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She made a show of digging around for coins as the bartender got her drink, but the show didn’t last long. The man tossed his own coins to the bartender for her and flashed her a sleazy smile. We couldn’t hear what they were saying from where we were, but we could still tell she was laying it on thick, looking at him through her eyelashes and resting her hand on his shoulder as she laughed at his jokes. It wasn’t long before he went as far as to reach around her waist and pull her into his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched as Karen kept the man completely distracted with her flirting and her breasts in his face, but at the same time her hands were discreetly rummaging through any of his pockets she could reach. Finally, she must have found as much as she could of value, because we watched her put on an apologetic face and start explaining whatever reason she had come up with for why she had to leave. He seemed to try and convince her to stay for a while longer, but she weaseled her way out of his grip and took a step toward the exit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t gotten far when he reached for his jacket pocket to check his pocket watch. My eyes met Jenny’s with a look of panic, hoping that somehow she had missed it. But Karen was too thorough for that. We looked on helplessly as his face started turning red when he came up empty. He stormed over to Karen, roughly grabbing her wrist and pulling her back towards himself. We could hear what he was saying - or rather, shouting - now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You little bitch!” he cried. “You think you can steal from me and get away with it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Karen tried to talk her way out of the situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bull shit!” he hollered, shaking her as he yelled. I had had about enough of it. I marched my way over to where the two were standing, my hand not far from where I kept my knife hidden, just in case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, this young woman clearly doesn’t know anything about your missing items,” I tried to reason with him. He turned his glare to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know she does! It was her that stole it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She says she didn’t, and-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course she did! Who else would have?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, sir, but I must insist you let her go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t get to </span>
  <em>
    <span>insist </span>
  </em>
  <span>on anything!” He was yelling even louder now. Clearly, my intervention wasn’t helping. “Hell, you’re probably in on it, too! Somebody get the law!” He reached out a hand to grab me like he was Karen, but I ducked his hand and reached for my knife. I had barely had time to draw it before there was something in between me and the stranger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now sir, did I hear you had something stolen from you?” I heard Arthur drawl. That was his blue shirt in front of me now, I realized. “I’ll tell you, I don’t know what’s happened to this country. Can’t trust no one no more.” Arthur reached for the man as he spoke, throwing his arm around his shoulders as if they were long lost friends. The man had no choice but to let go of Karen as Arthur started to steer him away, talking the whole time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur led him to the bar and tossed some coins out for a drink, his voice continuing in an almost hypnotic way so the man couldn’t get a word in edgewise. We didn’t stay to watch what happened next. Karen, Jenny, and I darted out the doors while the man was distracted. Luckily, Tilly and Mary Beth caught sight of us from across the street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Mary Beth asked as they joined us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got fuckin’ caught,” Karen muttered. The other two girls didn’t ask any more questions, but followed along quickly and quietly to where we had left the wagon. We didn’t say anything as we waited for Arthur, or when we finally saw him coming to join us, or even as he drove us out of town. Finally, he stopped the wagon not far from camp so he could turn in the seat to face us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanna tell me what the hell all that was about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tried to pickpocket him and got caught,” Karen explained simply. “Shit happens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit happens,” Arthur scoffed and swiveled his gaze to me instead, “but what the hell was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> thinking pulling a knife?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had no response. I didn’t even realize he had noticed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, Christ,” he continued, “we can pay back a little money if we get caught, but starting an all out brawl? Maybe even killing someone? You can’t talk your way out of that.” He shook his head and turned back around, getting the horses moving again. We stayed quiet the rest of the way back to camp. The other girls looked almost remorseful, but I was absolutely seething. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> he dress me down like that, especially in front of other people! All I had been doing is trying to protect my friend as best I could before he had shown up acting like a knight in goddamn shining armor. And I hadn’t started a brawl or killed anyone like he had mentioned, so what was the big deal, anyway? I had it under control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t even yelled at Karen the way he had yelled at me. Not that she deserved it either, but she was the one that got caught stealing and started it all. But he just had to go acting all high and mighty like he knew better than all of us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had been so caught up in my thoughts that it took me a moment to notice that we had arrived in camp again. I hopped down from the back of the wagon but stayed close as the other girls ambled back into the camp. I stood with my hand on my hip as Arthur came around the wagon and stopped in front of me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got a problem with me, Mr. Morgan?” I asked, not bothering to try to keep the ice out of my voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ain’t got a problem with you so much as I got a problem with you thinking you know everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk! You barged into the saloon and took over a situation you didn’t know a thing about!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I seem to remember that you were ready to stab someone before I got there, and I managed to get you and everyone else out of there without so much as throwing a punch.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had it under control.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bull shit. You think getting ready to kill a man is ‘under control’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was getting the knife out just in case. I could have done it without the knife too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sure weren’t what it looked like, what with him having a vice grip on Karen and grabbin’ at you and screamin’ for somebody to call the law! This ain’t even the first time I had to clean up your damn mess, Hawthorn. You need to get your shit together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to realize that I don’t need your help. I can handle myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and I must have a very different idea of what ‘handling yourself’ looks like then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took a step towards Arthur, glaring up at him. I worked to get my voice back under control a bit, but it still ended up coming out as almost a whisper. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Arthur Morgan.” I turned on my heel and stalked off into the camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could feel people’s eyes on me as I walked by. Our...conversation must have been a bit louder than I had intended. I ignored them and continued walking towards my tent. I also ignored the way my hands shook as I made sure the tent flap closed all the way behind me. Alone, finally. What I had wanted at the start of the day, and the way I would be spending the rest of it. By myself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow I didn't realize how long it had been since updating this. Things have been CRAZY these last few weeks. Your kudos and comments have been so appreciated y'all, keep them coming! Hoping to update a bit more regularly from here on out. Thanks for sticking with me :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After having it out with Arthur, I kept to myself in the tent for the rest of the evening. I was grateful that no one came to try and talk about it, and when I finally heard Tilly turning in for the night I pretended to already be asleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I didn’t find myself so lucky the next morning. I woke up to glaring sunshine as the tent flap was thrown open. I rolled over, groaning, to find Tilly was already gone and Abigail standing at my feet, hand on her hip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about yesterday?” she practically growled at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not particularly.” I tried to throw the blanket over my face, but Abigail snatched it from me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That weren’t a question. Talk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morgan acted like a complete ass again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell do you want from me, Abigail?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know Karen got caught trying to pick somebody’s pocket. What happened after that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had it covered, but Morgan insisted on sticking his nose where it don’t belong and then blaming me for the whole thing once we got outta town.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you decided to shout at him in front of the rest of the camp?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced down at my hands for a moment, embarrassed, but forced myself to look back up at her again. “Maybe that wasn’t the right place to do it, but dammit Abigail, he can’t keep treating me like a child!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abigail sighed heavily and ran a hand over her face, but sat down on the bedroll next to me. “You’ve gotta understand, Arthur’s been with Dutch and Hosea longer than some of these others here have been alive, and that whole time he’s been looking out for everyone else. It’s just who he is, what he’s always done. You two are gonna have to find a way to work around each other at least.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re probably right,” I conceded, shaking my head. “How big of an idiot did I look like yesterday?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ain’t gonna lie to ya, people were talking last night. They’ll forget about it though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? And how long will that take?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that part’s up to you. You and Arthur can get your shit figured out, or you could wait until the next time Karen and Sean fuck too loud out in the woods again and everyone starts talking about that instead. But that first one would shut people up faster.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you’re right. But I’m at least gonna need some food before I tackle that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Abigail stood and reached down to give me a hand up, “you better eat fast before Grimshaw puts you to work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t lying about being put to work. After what had happened in the saloon the day before, Dutch and Hosea had decided it was best if we packed up and moved just to be safe. I hadn’t even taken my first bite before I was being pushed towards Pearson’s tent to help him gather up all his things. He gave me a small smile as I joined him, but we both stayed quiet. I imagine he didn’t know what to say to me after yesterday’s outburst, and I couldn’t say that I was excited to talk about it either. Instead, I kept shoveling food into my face as I worked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but watch the bustling camp. It was amazing how quickly everything was coming apart and getting put up onto wagons. Everyone seemed to know what their job was and get it done efficiently and without complaint. The men were doing things like taking down the tents and getting wagons hitched up to horses, while the women were mostly packing up the things that were inside the tents. As much as we all got frustrated with Miss Grimshaw, I couldn’t deny that she kept everything organized and everyone on task.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The morning seemed to fly by as I worked. I hadn’t wanted to talk about yesterday, and aside from a few sideways glances aimed my way, everyone was too busy with their own jobs to talk much at all. I was content, and able to keep my hands and my mind busy for most of the morning. That started to change when it was time for the tent near Pearson’s wagon to come down as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turned to put another crate into the wagon when I saw a greasy, blonde-haired man leaning against the wheel with a cigarette between his lips. I knew from others pointing him out to me that his name was Micah, but I hadn’t ever talked with him myself. From what I had heard, he had a bit of a bad reputation around the camp. But then, Arthur had a good reputation and I couldn’t say that I agreed with it at this moment. Something about the grin that Micah wore almost sent a shiver down my spine, but I ignored it. It was probably just from the gossip that others had shared, and I was determined to form my own opinions. I gave him a friendly smile as he put his cigarette out under his boot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Hawthorn, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. Micah Bell.” I hefted the crate into the wagon and shook his outstretched hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to meet you, Mr. Bell. I take it you’re here to take down the tent?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s a part of it I suppose. But I also wanted to come check on you. I heard that little spat that you and Morgan got into yesterday. Wanted to come see that you weren’t letting a big old sourpuss like him get to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure about that? Sure sounded real upset, sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I clenched my jaw at his use of the pet name. “Like I said, I’m fine. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t call me that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corners of his lips curled into a smile and his hands went up as if in surrender. “Just trying to be kind,” he sneered. I was starting to see where his negative reputation came from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can be kind without treating me like a child.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t you worry, I know you’re not some kid.” He dropped his hands back to his sides and slid his eyes over my body lewdly. “Believe me, you seem like </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> a woman to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, come on now, don’t tell me no one’s ever paid you a compliment before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I just didn’t quite understand it. Maybe you could explain it to me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m saying that you’re quite the looker there, sweetheart. Got some...</span>
  <em>
    <span>assets</span>
  </em>
  <span> on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My brows rose at the way he was unafraid to say whatever was on his mind. “You fuckin’ serious?” My reaction only caused his smile to grow. I took a step towards him, my temper flaring for the second time in as many days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before either one of us could say another word, a different gruff voice called from behind me called out, “Micah, why don’t you just shut up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I spun around to find Arthur Morgan already working to take down Pearson’s tent. Micah’s attention turned to the other man as well. “Now I’m not so sure she’s gonna like you speaking for her again, Morgan,” he sneered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ain’t speaking for her, I’m speaking for me. I can’t stand to listen to that whiney voice of yours any longer. Get the hell outta here and go annoy someone else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Micah shook his head and took a few steps past me and towards Arthur. He made sure to speak loud enough for both of us to hear him. “You know what Morgan, I’m in a good mood. I’ll get out of your hair. I imagine you two have lots to talk about anyway.” He gave me one more sideways glance before sidling off elsewhere into the camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I started packing what I could find into another crate, trying to ignore Arhtur’s presence for a little while longer. I knew at some point while we were in such close proximity I would have to talk to him, but I was going to put it off for as long as I could. I even looked up to try and start a conversation with Pearson instead, but it seemed he had made himself scarce when Micah had shown up. I sighed heavily as I realized I had no other choice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr. Morgan, I...well, I think I might owe you an apology.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t owe me nothing, Miss Hawthorn.” He and I both kept working as we spoke so we could avoid making eye contact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I talked to Abigail this morning, she told me you’ve been running with Dutch and Hosea a long time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since I was a kid, I suppose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been on my own for a while now, too. I guess I’m just not used to having other people around or looking out for me or any of that. Seems like it’s taking me a bit to get used to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’ll happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you won’t let me apologize, then maybe I’ll just say thank you for...for, well, looking out for everyone I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All I got from him was a hum in response, but at least I knew he had heard me. We worked in silence for a few minutes more as I put away the last few things into Pearson’s wagon. All things considered, I was happy with my conversation with Arthur. It was true that there were plenty of things that I had to get used to living in a group, especially one as large as this one. Maybe in time I would be more comfortable with others looking out for me. And, maybe Arthur would even try to treat me like an adult. But I wasn’t going to hold my breath for that one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finished with my job in this area, I wiped my hands off and started off to see where else work needed to be done. I stopped short when I heard Arthur cursing under his breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need any help with that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn thing’s just stuck,” he muttered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” I made my way back towards him, “if I hold this part, you can have both hands to try and get the part that’s stuck.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Arthur and I were able to finish getting the tent taken down, others were already starting to load up the wagons with people to head out to the next spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know where we’re heading, anyway?” I asked Arthur as I tried to fold up the canvas as quickly as I could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re making our way down towards Blackwater.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>**********</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I found myself packed in a wagon in between crates with Abigail and Jack, and Hosea up front driving. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spirits were high as we made our way. I could hear some of the girls in other wagons singing to pass the time, and there was periodic laughter from some of the men riding their horses around the rest of the caravan. Jack and I passed the time playing seemingly endless rounds of Red Hands and make-believe games until he curled up against Abigail and fell asleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Saw you talking to Arthur earlier,” she mentioned, a small smile on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, figured I owed him a bit of an apology or an explanation or something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He really does mean well, Emma. Even if you don’t realize it yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who knows, maybe he’ll grow on me.” I waved a hand dismissively, ready to change the subject. “You know who won’t grow on me, though, is Micah. Had a run-in with him today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t know how you managed to avoid him for this long.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure either, but somehow I did. Don’t think I’ll be that lucky anymore. That man has got a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mouth</span>
  </em>
  <span> on him. Weren’t too pleased with my reaction either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Abigail scoffed and shook her head. “I ain’t sure why that greaseball is still surprised when women don’t fall head over heels for him. He does the same thing to all the women in the camp, try not to take it too personal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We put our conversation on hold as the caravan started to slow and snake it’s way through a thicket of trees. By the time Hosea led our wagon into the clearing, Jack was starting to wake up and some of the men had already dismounted to set up the camp once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The land around us was flat and grassy, and there was a warm breeze blowing. There was plenty of space for us to spread out but the camp couldn’t be seen from the road for all the trees surrounding it. As we pulled in, Hosea told us that we weren’t far from the town of Blackwater, just a short trip down the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We set to work right away. It was already mid afternoon, and we needed to get the camp set up before evening. I went over to Pearson’s wagon to help there again just as I had that morning. This time as I unpacked the crates, he was rummaging through everything to find what he needed to cook. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The good mood I had noticed in the wagon seemed to have traveled with us. The new camp was being set up more quickly than I ever could have imagined, as if it had been there all along. There was even minimal shouting from Grimshaw as we all worked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny came to help me when she finished up with whatever job she had started. She had barely made it to the tent before a mischievous smile lit up her face. “So I hear there was a conversation between you and Mr. Morgan again this morning?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ain’t no secrets around here, are there?” I sighed, but couldn’t help but smile back at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No secrets from me, anyway,” she confirmed. “So, what did you say? What did </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried to apologize to him, he said I didn’t need to. I rambled a bit, told him that I’m still getting used to not being on my own anymore. I think it was the first conversation I’ve had with him that didn’t end in a shouting match or a bad mood.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s progress. I will admit, Arthur can be a bit rough around the edges sometimes. But that man would give any one of us the shirt off his back. And, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jenny!” I gasped, lightly slapping her shoulder, but laughing despite myself. The woman had a way of always putting a smile on others’ faces. She just shrugged and kept working. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the afternoon faded into evening and the work was finished, most of the gang found themselves crowded around the campfire. I sat perched on a log next to Abigail, with John next to her and Charles on my other side. Jack was curled up on her lap, struggling to keep his eyes open but not wanting to miss out on anything that might be going on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack, sweetie, we better get you to bed,” Abigail stroked his hair and spoke quietly to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Mama, I’m having fun!” He tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll have more fun tomorrow, Jack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a little while longer Mama?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about this, Jack,” I interjected, smiling down at him. “If you head off to bed and get some good sleep, tomorrow morning you and I can go find some sticks to make into swords for when we play knights.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered my offer. “That would be okay, I guess,” he finally decided. Abigail gave me an appreciative pat on the shoulder as she led Jack off by the hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know he’s going to hold you to that,” John pointed out, watching them go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. He’s a sweet kid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe if you’ve got some time after playing knights you and I could go hunt again tomorrow,” Charles suggested. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like that, Charles. Lord knows I could use a little more practice with that bow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re getting the hang of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really appreciate that-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was cut off by Karen grabbing my hand and practically pulling me up off the log where I was sitting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come dance with me!” she cried. Javier was strumming an upbeat song I hadn’t heard before, but others in the camp seemed to know as they sang along. Karen spun and twirled and dragged me along behind her. It was all I could do to stay on my feet and remind myself to breathe in between the laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My mind wandered briefly back to the conversation I had with Arthur earlier that day. I had told him that having others looking out for me would take some getting used to, and it wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t expect to start letting my guard down like this so quickly. This camp, these people were home to me now, good and bad. And if feeling safe and trusting others meant practically falling to my knees as I got dragged behind a dizzying dance with Karen, then so be it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Soooo I definitely wrote the end of this while slightly drunk. And may or may not be posting it while also slightly drunk. Its probs fine. Enjoy :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’ll never take the princess!” Jack cried, pointing a stick at me as if it were a sword. He hadn’t forgotten the promise I had made the night before about playing knights with him. We spent almost an hour searching the wooded area around the camp for the perfect sticks for our swords before he actually wanted to start playing pretend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to see you try to stop me!” I shot back at him, holding my own stick up. We battled, our sticks clacking together, until Jack took a step forward and pressed his stick into my stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah! You got me!” I fell onto my knees, clutching at the spot where Jack stick had poked me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jack lifted his chin and looked down at where I knelt on the ground. “Repent, black knight, and I will show you mercy.” It was hard not to giggle at the refined words being spoken in his tiny voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve shown me the errors of my ways! I repent! Please, don’t kill me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just then, we heard Abigail calling Jack’s name. “It’s the princess!” he said. “I have to go save her!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t leave me here!” I called after him as he ran to his mother. It was clear when he didn’t even turn around to look at me that we were done playing, at least for now. I stood up, dusted off my skirt, and followed along behind Jack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time for lunch, my brave knight,” I heard Abigail tell him as I walked up. I was going to join them, but I heard Charles calling my name from where he was on guard duty a little farther away. Abigail gave me a smile and a wave as she walked Jack back into the camp and I went to go meet up with Charles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You called?” I greeted him with a smile that he returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, you’re pretty good with kids.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack’s just an easy kid,” I shrugged. “But thank you, I suppose.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You still up to go hunting with me? Bill should be coming to take over guard duty here in a few minutes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d love to. I’ll go start getting some things together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time I had talked to Jenny about using her horse again, changed out of a skirt and into a pair of pants, and gathered the few items I would need, Bill had already taken up his spot on guard duty and Charles was over by the horses. As I joined him and started loading things into the saddle bags, I looked over and noticed that this time he had a rifle in his hand instead of the bow that he usually had when we went hunting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing with that?” I asked, eyeing the weapon he was holding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was thinking about hunting something a bit bigger today, probably going to use rifles instead of bows.” His brow furrowed as he studied my face for a moment. “What’s the matter?” he finally asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...well, I can’t say I ever shot a gun before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You serious?” a gravelly voice came from just behind Charles. John stepped up, clearly having overheard our conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you manage to end up with a gang of outlaws and never shoot a gun?” John scoffed. “Matter of fact, how you been with us this long and no one’s ever realized it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one’s ever asked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then I guess today’s as good a day as any to start to learn,” Charles decided. He looked down at the gun that was in his hands for a moment, thinking. “John, you and Emma go find a spot where she can practice. I’m going to go get a different rifle.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Charles walked back into camp to find what he needed, John nodded his head in the opposite direction to indicate for me to follow him that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what exactly are we looking for?” I asked him as we walked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somewhere there’s plenty of empty space for you, and where you won’t be aiming back towards camp and shoot someone without meaning to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about over there?” I pointed to a small clearing to the right of the camp with only a few dead trees and logs around the area.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should work alright,” John agreed, and started walking. “We can put some bottles or cans up on that stump there for you to aim at.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old were you when you learned to shoot?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell, I don’t know. Maybe ten or so?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were just a kid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I was just a kid when I started running with Dutch and Hosea, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You been with them for a while then, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess I have. Back then it was just me, Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur. Gang looks a little different now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We turned as we heard footsteps approaching and found Charles headed our way, a gun slung over his shoulder and Arthur following along behind. I clenched my jaw to avoid rolling my eyes at the way he always found a way to insert himself to any situation around the camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t want to miss out on the fun, Morgan?” John greeted him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t want Miss Hawthorn here to get shot, what with you trying to teach her,” he shot back, a smirk on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re planning on teaching me, then?” I asked. I had to fight to keep the surprise out of my voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arthur is easily the best shot in the gang,” Charles was quick to interject. Clearly, he was aware of the tension between Arhtur and myself. Though, I was fairly certain that everyone in the camp was aware of it.  Arthur waved off Charles’ compliment, but made no effort to answer my question. Instead, I turned my attention back to Charles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what’s the difference between this gun and the one you had before?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This one’s a varmint rifle. Smaller caliber, going to be a bit easier to handle and less kick. We’ll start here and move on when you’re ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But wouldn’t it be easier for me to start with a pistol or something instead of a rifle?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles shook his head. “Long guns are actually easier to aim than handguns. We’ll get you confident in your aim with rifles before we give you a pistol or a revolver.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough,” I shrugged. “So how do I hold it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, not yet,” Arthur shook his head. “Few other things you gotta learn first.” He reached over and took the gun from Charles before walking over to stand next to me. I couldn’t help but notice how close he stood. I took a breath, shoving down any emotions that arose with his proximity, and realized that he probably just needed to be close to show me whatever it was I needed to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, so first you gotta remember that no matter what, you always assume the gun is loaded. Even if you took out the bullets yourself, you don’t ever aim it at anything you don’t wanna see destroyed, and you keep your finger off the trigger ‘til you’re ready to shoot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, easy, but important. You got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Let’s show you how to load it then.” I watched carefully as Arthur took a handful of bullets and loaded several into the gun. Then, with a reminder to keep it pointed away from everyone, he handed it to me to try it out myself. I struggled a bit with the smooth metal of the bullet slipping in between my fingers, but eventually I got the round loaded into the rifle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not bad,” Arthur nodded. “Now take it out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I furrowed my brow, but did as he instructed to avoid another argument. My fingers still slid, but I looked up at him for the next steps when I had the bullet resting in my hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Load it and unload it again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let out a huff, but did as he asked. Then again. And again. I lost count of how many times I put the same bullet into the gun and took it out again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t say that I did it completely without protest, but I did as he told each time. The process seemed useless - until I finally realized how much more quickly and confidently I could load and unload the gun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think you’ve just about got the hang of that,” Arthur decided. “Let’s show you how to hold it. Marston, go put up a few cans on that stump over there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As John walked over with a handful of cans in his arms, I made sure to angle the gun so it was aimed up in the air instead of towards the stump where John was walking. Arthur didn’t say anything, but I could swear I saw a small smile on his lips as he ducked his head and moved so he was behind me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, so you wanna keep your shoulders pointed at what you’re shooting,” his hands came up to my shoulders and angled them towards the cans as John moved back to where he and Charles had been watching. “Keep this right leg back to help with your balance.” He tapped my right foot with his boot as he spoke, prompting me to move it as he had instructed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now take the butt of the gun and tuck it into your shoulder right here.” His hands moved from my shoulders to my hands, making sure that I was holding the rifle in the right spots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You see these two metal parts right here?” He indicated two points on the top of the gun with the pointer finger on either hand. I nodded in acknowledgement. “Those are your sights. This one that’s closer to you goes right over your target, then put it in between the one that’s farther away. Close one eye so just your dominant one is open.” He stopped speaking for a moment as I worked on lining up the sights over one of the cans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once you got your shot lined up, take a breath in. Squeeze the trigger when you let it out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took in a deep breath, making sure to keep my sights trained on the can, and slowly let it out, pulling the trigger as I did, just as Arthur had said. I felt a small jolt as the gun pushed back into my shoulder, and paused for a moment. Finally, I put the gun down to see where the bullet had ended up. Scanning around the stump, I couldn’t see it. I looked up a little farther and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hit it! I hit the can!” Charles chuckled from his spot learning up against a tree, and Arhtur and John were both smiling from under their hats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That you did, Miss Hawthorn,” Arthur confirmed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur and I spent the rest of the afternoon practicing. Others around the camp would stop by periodically to watch the lesson and sometimes give their own unsolicited advice, which Arthur was always quick to shoot down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wasn’t as lucky the rest of the day as I was with my first shot, but I wasn’t hopeless either. I was at least always close to my target - or, close enough not to be in danger of shooting someone accidentally. I could smell dinner from Pearson’s tent by the time Arthur decided that was enough for the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve still got some work to do, but not bad for your first try, Miss Hawthorn.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate that Mr. Morgan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just call me Arthur.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then you just call me Emma.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright then, Emma. You and I’ll keep practicing and you’ll get the hang of it soon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate it. You teaching me, I mean.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ain’t the first time, won’t be the last. Dutch and Hosea usually have me teaching anybody that needs to learn around here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You must be pretty good, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ain’t bad, I suppose.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At any rate, I appreciate your help.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded to acknowledge my thanks, but was almost immediately called away by Dutch looking for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I ambled my way into the camp, stopping for a moment near Pearson’s tent to wash off my hands so they weren’t turned dark with gunpowder or smell like lead anymore. As I passed, I also grabbed a bowl of stew before I sat down at a table near Hosea. He smiled warmly at me as I joined him but didn’t say anything, letting me dig into the meal in peace. I was hungrier than I had realized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once I was about halfway done with the bowl, he decided it was a better time to talk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I hear you’re learning how to shoot a gun?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded as I swallowed the bite of food already in my mouth. “Arthur started to teach me today. Charles and I were going to go hunting before he had realized I had never shot before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds like it was about time for an outlaw to learn how to shoot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I froze for just a moment. I knew good and well that I was living among outlaws, but I had never thought of myself or even heard someone refer to me as an outlaw myself before. I supposed, after several months of living in this camp, there really was no denying it anymore. I was becoming an outlaw. I regained my composure as quickly as I could and continued eating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It also sounds like it’s only a matter of time before I get put on guard duty,” I joked. Hosea laughed along with me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s for sure. At least if we had you take an evening shift instead of Bill we could trust you not to fall asleep. If I’m being honest, we’ll probably end up putting you on more jobs too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I should stick to just hunting with Charles with that rifle before more jobs, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, dear,” Hosea chuckled. “I was just thinking about the long term. If you’ll be with us here, that is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took another bite of food, allowing myself another moment to think. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just know that this outlaw life isn’t for everyone. It wouldn’t be the first time someone left. In fact, I left myself, for a time at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I had a woman, years ago. Bessie was her name. She and I ran with the gang, together. She knew good and well this is who I was. But at some point, she and I decided that we wanted to have a family together. We left the gang and went to try to make a straight life for ourselves. Was only maybe a year before Bessie passed away, and once she was gone I came back to join Dutch again. Been here ever since.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could see just a hint of pain in Hosea’s eyes as he talked about Bessie. He still had a small smile on his lips as he spoke, but I could still tell that this wasn’t the easiest topic for him. I couldn’t imagine Hosea anywhere but here, at the camp with the gang.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess what my point is,” Hosea continued, “is that if you wanted to leave, no one would hold it against you. Both John and I left for a time, and we both were welcomed back when we were ready. Plenty of others left and never looked back.” He rested his hand on top of mine. “You just need to make the decision for yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wasn’t quite sure how Hosea always seemed to know what I was thinking or feeling before I knew myself. This whole time as I had been at odds with Arthur, I wasn’t sure that being an outlaw was the right life for me. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to live in a group and look out for others the same way that they had been looking out for me. But something about today had quieted those thoughts. I felt like I could truly be here for the long run. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I smiled up at Hosea, feeling like I understood what he was getting at. “Hosea, I promise, if I didn’t feel like I belonged here, I would leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, I suppose I should just be glad that you haven’t found a reason to leave us yet. We sure do like having you around here, Miss Hawthorn.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’m happy to have found my way here, Mr. Matthews.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hosea smiled one last time before patting my shoulder and walking off towards his tent to read a book. Abigail quickly took over his spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Saw you and Arthur were getting pretty close this afternoon,” she murmured conspiratorially. I rolled my eyes, but smiled at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was just teaching me how to shoot so I can hunt with Charles and go on a few more jobs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, he sure did seem to like to help, if I do say so myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, Abigail.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Honestly, I am having so much fun writing this! Your comments and kudos make me SO HAPPY every time I see them. Y'all are wonderful!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> <span>Despite the new location, the camp seemed to be quickly buzzing with new jobs. Arthur and I tried to find time to still practice </span></p>
<p>
  <span>shooting as often as we could, but he was busy most days working a job with Hosea. And, despite the fact that we had some successful interactions, Arthur was starting to get on my every last nerve once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every single time I picked up a gun, Arthur made me sit there and load it and unload it, over and over and over again. It didn’t matter how fast I could do it or even if I could do it with my eyes closed, he sat there and watched me put bullets in and out of the gun. The third day in a row that he made me do it, I couldn’t help but grumble a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really going to make me do this again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I am.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can load the gun fine. What I need to be practicing is how to shoot the damn thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur pulled a pistol from his holster and unloaded it. “You think you’ve got the hang of it, then let’s see. We’ll race. If you can beat me, you don’t have to do it again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We counted off and I loaded the gun as fast as I could. I knew the race was over when Arthur fired off the bullet he had just loaded in, hitting the can on the stump dead on. I hadn’t even gotten the bullet all the way into the chamber yet. He holstered his pistol again and watched as I continued to take the bullet in and out of the gun as before, calling him some colorful names under my breath the entire time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His feedback also started getting more gruff the more practicing we did. Where the first few days he would call out reminders of how to stand or line up my shot, now it was more like barking orders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Keep the damn gun tucked into your shoulder!" Arthur shouted from just behind me. Too late. I had pulled the trigger as he was speaking and missed the target. I sighed and turned to face him, finding him running a hand over his face in frustration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Would it kill you to be a little nicer?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t ease up until you start hittin’ the target.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You yelling at me isn’t helping me hit anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have to yell if you would just remember the things that I’ve told you over and over again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shoved the gun into his hands and turned on my heel back towards the camp. “I’m done for today,” I muttered. Arthur let me go with no argument.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three days later, I finally decided to swallow my pride and ask Arthur to practice with me again. I tried to catch him when I finally heard his horse return to camp after a day in town with Hosea, but Dutch got to him before I could. He gave me a quick nod in greeting as he walked by to Dutch’s tent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had enough time to finish another round of dominoes with Abigail before Dutch reemerged from his tent and called me over. Abigail raised her eyebrows at me in a question, but I just shrugged in response, not quite sure what Dutch wanted from me. Still, I walked over dutifully to join him at his tent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dutch greeted me with a smile as he held the tent flap aside for me to enter. Arthur and Hosea were still there as well, as if they had been waiting for me. I bit my lip, starting to feel a little nervous about what was going on. Dutch noticed my hesitation quickly and put a hand on my shoulder, chuckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing to worry about, my dear,” he reassured me. “Just wanted to talk to you about a potential job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let go of some of the tension in my shoulders, much less concerned about the conversation. “What sort of job are you thinking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arthur and Hosea heard about a coach that’ll be making its way into Blackwater tomorrow. We could use your help to rob it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My help?” I scoffed. “Dutch, I still can barely hit a bottle a few yards away, just ask Arthur.” I noticed Arthur trying to hide a grin at that. “What makes you think I’d be any help robbing a coach?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We had a slightly different idea of how you could help,” Hosea cut in. “More of a damsel in distress type of situation. You wouldn’t have any weapons on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I furrowed my brow, not able to stop the thoughts rushing into my head of all the ways sending me into a coach robbery unarmed could go wrong. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like a bit more of an explanation of the plan before I agree to anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hosea smiled warmly at me. “Smart girl.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here’s what we’re thinking,” Dutch took a seat on a chair nearby, leaning in towards me and a conspiratorial glint in his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After spending the afternoon going over the finer details of the plan with Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur, I found myself planted on the back of Charles’s horse as we rode alongside Arthur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The men both had their typical handguns tucked into the holsters on their hips and a myriad of other long guns to choose from strapped to their saddles. I, on the other hand, was only armed with a knife tucked into the waist of the skirt I was wearing. If I was being honest, I was a bit anxious about staging a robbery armed only with that knife. It was Hosea that eventually convinced me, telling me about other times that some of the women from the camp ran similar schemes and the way that the men on the job would look out for them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t a far ride to the spot where we were going to wait for the coach. Charles and Arthur found a spot in the trees to hitch their horses where they couldn’t be seen from the road. Charles dismounted before turning back to help me down from the horse as well. As he and Arthur pulled the weapons they wanted from their saddles, I checked my knife one more time to make sure it was hidden but still easily accessible. As I was fiddling with it, I didn’t hear Charles come up beside me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nervous?” he asked in that low tone of his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe a little.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be. We’ve got your back.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I took a deep breath and nodded. This coach wasn’t supposed to be heavily guarded anyway. It was some famous singer making her way into Blackwater for a concert later in the week. Dutch had said she was known for being rather ostentatious and should have some jewelry we could fence at the very least. But, most importantly, the only armed person on that coach should be the driver. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment later, Arthur joined us at the edge of the trees, tipping his chin to indicate somewhere down the road. “Coach is just around the bend there,” he said. He glanced at me, and I could swear I saw some sort of emotion flash behind his eyes for just a moment. As quickly as I saw it, though, it was gone again. “Ready, Emma?” His question pulled me back out of my own thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready.” Quickly, I dragged my fingers through my hair to pull some of it out of the braid it was tied back in. Then I rubbed my hands in the dirt before rubbing them on my clothes and face. Now at least I looked the part. Finally, I made my way into the road and sat in the middle, waiting for the coach to come closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced back over to where Charles and Arthur were hidden in the trees. Even though I knew they were there, I still had a hard time spotting them. They had pulled up their bandanas to cover most of their faces, but I could still see the focus in their eyes as they glanced between me and the coach. As it rounded the bend, I put on a high, helpless voice and started calling for help, waving my arms frantically to get the driver’s attention. My stomach dropped as I noticed another armed man sitting up next to the driver as well. There wasn’t supposed to be any other guns. But I was already too far into this to back out now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Plase, sir! I need help, please!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driver pulled hard on the horses’ reign, trying to stop as quickly as he could so as not to hit me. I’d have to remember if there was a next time for this scheme to sit myself a bit farther away from a curve in the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What on earth are you doing in the middle of the road, miss?” the driver cried. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, please, sir!” I called, even going as far as to force a few tears down my cheeks. “My horse was spooked and bucked me off. I’m afraid my ankle may be broken!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driver hopped down from the coach and rushed over to me, a look of true concern on his face. He was a rather round man with a blonde mustache covering his top lip. The armed guard that had been sitting next to the driver hopped down as well. He was much younger than the driver, and the anxious look on his face made me think that he hadn’t been doing this job for very long. He kept his rifle clutched tightly to his chest as his eyes darted around the road in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before either of the men could get too close to me, Arthur emerged from the trees, a gun in each hand pointed at either of them. The guard raised his weapon as well, but he was so nervous that I could see it shaking in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles had made his way toward the coach as well. He threw open the door, aiming his weapon at the woman inside. She kept her head tucked down and tossed her purse to the floor, crying. He took it and shut the door again, not needing to get her involved any further. The guard and the driver were both too worried about Arthur and I in front of him to notice as Charles made his way to the lock box in the back as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Put your guns down!” the guard barked, his voice cracking. Arthur made no move to comply. “I said, put them down! Or I’ll shoot!” This time, Arthur only thought for a split second before reaching down and hauling me up off the ground. He held me in front of him and pressed his gun to my temple. I was his hostage, as far as these two men knew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You move and I kill her,” Arthur growled from behind me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driver seemed a bit more composed than the guard and tried to reason with Arthur. “Now, sir there’s no need-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Arthur cut him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave the girl out of it!” The guard cried. “Take what you want, but don’t hurt her!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I appreciate the offer, but I think we’re going to take what you got </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> take her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles came around the side of the coach again and nodded to us, indicating that he was ready to go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that’s our cue to leave, gentlemen,” Arthur drawled. The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur took a few steps back and whistled for his horse. The sharp noise startled the guard, and his finger squeezed the trigger. At the sound of the gunshot, Arthur tossed me to the ground and fell on top of me. More shots sounded along with cries of pain, but I couldn’t tell who or where they were coming from. All I could do was hope that Charles and Arthur weren’t hurt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, after what seemed like hours, it fell silent. I felt Arthur take a few breaths above me before getting up again, and reaching down to help me as well. Both he and Charles were uninjured. The same couldn’t be said for the driver and the guard. The woman that was in the coach had run off, making her way to Blackwater. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur put his hands on my shoulders and ducked his head to look directly into my face. “You alright? You hurt?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I - I think I’m fine. You and Charles?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re fine too. Come on, we gotta get outta here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charles was already mounted on his horse by the time Arthur and I made our way over there. I thought I would be riding back with Charles just as I had on the way there, but instead Arthur offered me his hands for help up onto his horse instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we should split up,” Charles mentioned, “go different ways back to camp.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re probably right,” Arthur drawled. “We’ll see you back there.” Charles gave us a nod and we were off in different directions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur and I traveled in silence for a while before he slowed the horse to a trot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I uh..well, I’m sorry for putting you in that position back there,” he muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you on about?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It weren’t right of me to put a gun to your head like that, just trying to apologize. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to apologize for anything. We got what we came for, that’s what matters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ain’t so sure that’s all that matters. I knew we should have gotten out of there when I saw how that dumbass was holding that gun. Had no idea what he was doing. And then when he started shootin’, I...well I was afraid that he hit you. Came real close.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was taken aback as I processed his words. “You mean to tell me that you were worried about me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now hold on, I don’t want you gettin’ all offended again, I didn’t mean-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Arthur. I don’t think I’d have made it out of there without your help.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just nodded and fell silent again as we kept riding. It was another few minutes before either of us spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now do you see why I have you practice shooting the way I do?” Arthur finally asked. “A couple more guns there I would have had to reload in the middle of all the shootin’. And you gotta make sure to focus when there’s a lot goin’ on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get it. I’m not going to say I like it though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, the sooner you get the hang of it the sooner you get rid of me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I’m not quite so sure about that, cowboy. Maybe I’ll get rid of your lessons, but then I’ll just get sent on more jobs with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds like you may be stuck then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...well, I’m sorry I’ve been making those lessons more difficult.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ain’t nothing I can’t handle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess you’re pretty tough, cowboy. But I’ll try and make it easier for you, maybe give you a little less backtalk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose I would appreciate that.” He turned and looked at me over his shoulder, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Since when did you start calling me cowboy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Today, I suppose. What, would you rather me call you gunslinger instead?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t just call me Arthur?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s the fun in that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged and shook his head in amusement, calling out to John on guard duty as we made our way back into camp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur dismounted and immediately turned back around to help me down from the horse as well. I almost thought I felt some sort of pulse where his hands touched my waist. But that couldn’t actually be what I thought it was, right? I shook my head to push the thought out of my head. I was just excited, that was all. We had a successful robbery with a good take, and Arthur and I were getting along again - for now at least. So far, Blackwater seemed like it was working out well for us.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We need to get you a horse!” Jenny declared. She found me hitching her horse that I once again had to borrow for the day to go out and hunt with Charles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You planning on buying me one?” I joked. I had to admit that she was right, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scoffed at me. “Who said anything about buying one?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the hell else am I gonna get a horse?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll show you.” Jenny grinned and grabbed my hand, dragging me through the camp. We made a beeline for where Lenny, Javier, and Arthur were sitting at one of the tables playing poker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey boys,” she drawled, planting herself at the empty spot at the table. “I’ve got a favor to ask.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Javier rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help grinning at her. “Always need something, don’t you, Miss Kirk?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny tucked her chin to her chest and looked at him through her eyelashes. She was a master of the puppy dog eyes. “Javier, you haven’t even heard what I’ve had to say yet!” she whined. “All we need is a little help finding Emma here a horse.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Javier actually laughed out loud. “I’m the wrong person to ask, ladies. Boaz can barely stand me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She quickly turned her attention elsewhere. “Arthur? What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed and ran a hand over his face, giving himself a moment to think. “I suppose I could take y’all out there tomorrow if you really want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny squealed in excitement before getting up and pressing a kiss to Arthur’s cheek as a thank you. “How about you, Lenny?” she turned to the man sitting next to Arthur. “Want to come with?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you don’t mind me tagging along,” his smile grew. Jenny winked at him before grabbing my hand again and dragging me away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What just happened?” I questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re going out to get you a horse tomorrow. A wild one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stopped and stared at her. “How the hell do you think I’m gonna be able to catch and tame a wild horse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny scoffed and waved a hand. “That’s what Arthur’s there for. You just tell him which one you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Telling Morgan what to do seems like something I can manage just fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll probably end up setting up a camp for the night, so we may as well get started packing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny and I spent the rest of the evening together, gossiping and gathering the things that we would need for a night away from the gang. Despite the fact that Arthur would be there, I couldn’t help but be excited to get to spend this time with Jenny, and hopefully get to know Lenny a little better too. I had heard plenty of jokes thrown her way from some of the other girls about how she was sweet on Lenny, but I noticed she never bothered to deny it. I was interested to see the two of them together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning, Arthur and Lenny each mounted up on their horses while Jenny and I rode together on hers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was thinking about taking you a bit farther north to try and find an appaloosa, kinda like Charles has,” Arthur explained as he led our group out of the camp. “We’d end up spending the night around there. That sound alright?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds great to me,” I agreed. Arthur just nodded and steered his horse to take the road north.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Lenny,” I asked the younger man, “how long have you been with all them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not quite a year yet. Was on my own for quite a while before that, since I was maybe fifteen or so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds pretty similar to me. Seems like you got yourself a place here already, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, this is my family now. Gonna have to work at it if they want to get rid of me,” he laughed brightly. “Where you from anyway, Emma?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All kinds of places. But I spent lots of time a little farther south of here in New Austin, especially towards Tumbleweed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I don’t mind it down there,” Jenny interjected. “It’s kinda peaceful. You can go for miles down the road and you won’t see no one else.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded in agreement. “Can get a little lonely after a while, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose so,” Jenny sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So if you’re from all over then, Mis Emma,” Lenny called, “where’s been you’re favorite?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had to think for a moment about the places I had been that I had actually enjoyed. The list was relatively small. “You know, I liked being around Owanjila, not far from Strawberry. Can go and head into town easy if you need something, but close to the lake it’s just you and the animals.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We continued to ride, chatting about the places we had been and what we had liked or disliked about each of them. Arthur was quieter than the rest of us, but he still offered up some of his opinions and experiences every once in a while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was already midafternoon when we finally made it to the northern part of West Elizabeth. I smiled as I realized that it wasn’t that far from Owanjila, like I had been talking about earlier. Arthur led our small group off the road and into the trees where we hitched the horses before we set out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Arthur drawled, turning from Bodicea to face us. “We’re gonna have to be real quiet to get close to the horses. Emma, just make sure you’re a little closer to me so you can let me know which one you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nodded quickly, barely able to contain my excitement. I couldn’t believe he was willing to go break a wild horse for me. I almost thought I saw a smirk on Arthur’s face as he turned back around and led us all quietly through the tall grass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catching even the first glimpse of a horse took so much longer than I had anticipated. It seemed like we saw every other kind of animal on God’s green earth run by us - except horses. After yet another deer scampered by, I was about ready to give up. The look on Jenny’s face told me that she was, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Arthur’s hand shot out, stopping the rest of our movement. I looked up and saw several appaloosa horses grazing not far in front of us. I couldn’t help the smile that broke out on my face. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And one of them was going to be mine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I scanned the horses, ignoring everyone else's eyes on me waiting for me to make a decision on which one I wanted. “That one,” I decided, pointing it out to Arthur. “The one with hardly any spots.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, whispering for us to stay where we were, as he made his way closer to the horses. I couldn’t hear his footsteps in the grass or any shuffling as he took out his lasso. The horses didn’t hear him either. The smile on my face grew as he crept closer and closer to the horses I had pointed out to him. When he was close enough that the horse finally noticed him, his hands went up next, as if surrendering to someone who had pressed a gun to his head. The horse just watched as he took even slower steps towards it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked, and his lasso was around the horse’s neck. He kept the other hand up, but didn’t bother being as quiet as he was a moment before now. If I listed closely, I could hear him talking to the horse, shushing it and trying to calm it down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A knot grew in my stomach as the horse bucked and pulled at the rope, but finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Arthur was close enough to touch it. With a grace that I didn’t know he possessed, he swung himself up onto the horse’s back, gripping tightly onto the lasso. The horse moved every which way trying to get the weight off it’s back, but Arthur moved as if he were a part of the animal now. Nothing the horse could do dislodged Arthur. We could hear the horse huffing and puffing as it eventually decided that it was too exhausted to continue fighting a rider. It stilled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I could see Arthur’s proud smirk from a mile away as he steered the horse through the grass and toward the rest of us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think this is yours,” he said as soon as he got close enough. I stepped forward towards the horse, gently resting a hand on her neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey there, girl,” I whispered, looking her over. She had a snowy white coat that almost seemed to sparkle if the sun hit it just right. There were some black spots down towards her belly and legs, but very few for an appaloosa. She was wonderful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatcha gonna name her?” I heard Jenny ask behind me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had to think for a moment. “What about Aurora?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh, that’s pretty! Just like her.” Jenny stepped forward to pat her as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We started walking back towards where we had left our horses. Even though I was leading Aurora, we didn’t have to walk as long on the way back now that we didn’t have to be as quiet. As soon as we made it back, Lenny and Arthur used the last bit of sunlight left to start setting up what we needed to camp for the night, while Jenny and I worked on saddling Aurora so she could get used to the feeling before our ride back to camp in the morning. Two tents were set up in record time, and the smell of food cooking over a fire made Jenny and I work to finish even faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We all settled around the fire, Jenny and Lenny close to one another one one side while Arthur and I were on the other. We all ate quietly, hungry and tired after a full day of riding and sneaking around the forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arthur,” Lenny broke the silence, “how’d you learn to break a horse like that anyway?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur shrugged. “Started learning from my father when I was a kid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How would you even teach a kid to do something like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I didn’t start by just hopping on a wild horse like that.” Jenny sighed contentedly and rested her head on Lenny’s shoulder as Arthur began telling his story. “My father always had a horse of some kind, whether he stole it or bought it. Usually stolen. Soon as I was old enough even to reach the stirrups, he’d put me on the back of whatever unruly horse he had at the time and tell me to ride. First few times, I got bucked of course. Got the wind knocked out of me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After awhile, I was at least able to stay in the saddle, but couldn’t get the horse to listen to me. I’d sit up there and kick and tug at the reigns and the horse would do whatever he damn well wanted to.  Wasn’t ‘til I was older that I finally got the hang of it, at least with horses that were already broken. Guess I took after my father with stealing horses. That’s actually how I met Dutch and Hosea, trying to steal a horse from them after my daddy died. They caught me, but must have seen something in that scrawny little 11 year old that I was and kept me around. Hosea eventually saw I liked being around the horses, and he’s the one who showed me how to find the wild ones, get up close to ‘em, and eventually break ‘em myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny had dozed off snuggled up to Lenny as Arthur was speaking. Lenny looked down at her, a small smile on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think I better get her to bed,” Lenny said lowly so as not to wake her up. He picked her up as gently as he could and brought her into the tent that she and I were going to share, leaving Arthur and I alone in front of the fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you again, Arthur, for helping me get a horse.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t mention it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you were so young when Dutch and Hosea found you. You and I ended up joining the gang in almost the same way, now that I think about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur nodded, but stayed quiet for another moment. “You know, Emma,” he finally said, “you get on my every last nerve some days. But I’m glad you’re here. With the gang, I mean. It’s nice havin’ you around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, he stood up from the fire, mumbling a good night, and made his way to the other tent to turn in for the night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning, we woke up early and started our trip back to the camp shortly after. Aurora wasn’t perfect yet, but she let me ride her at least somewhat successfully. Arthur stayed close to me on Bodicea, giving me tips and encouragement on how to get the horse to listen to me. Eventually, she calmed down enough that Arthur wasn’t having to give me constant feedback.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel like I’ve been stuck in the camp since we came to Blackwater,” I said, taking advantage of the time to talk. “What have you been so busy with in town recently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hosea and I have a real estate scam we think we’ve got figured out. At least, that’s sort of what it is. Someone else is running a real estate scan and we’ll be grifting off’a them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Robbing some other crooks. Doesn’t sound like a bad plan at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We shall see. Should be finishing up with it in the next couple of days here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about everyone else? Seems like most of the other men are in and out of the camp, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not too sure, honestly. Heard something ‘bout a ferry or some such, but I’ve been so wrapped up in this job with Hosea that I haven’t kept up with it. I’m sure if it’s a good one we’ll hear about it sooner or later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A ferry sounds like a big job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Might be, I don’t rightly know. Dutch’ll get the whole gang involved if he needs to, if it’s a big enough score.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does he do that often? Use most of the gang, I mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Depends on the job. Most of us’ll be there if we’re hittin’ a bank, or sometimes even trains.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I just hummed in response, giving myself a moment to think. I suddenly started to feel out of my depth living in a gang of outlaws. I was just a girl from New Austin, wandering around the country on my own. Sure, I had picked a few pockets if I really needed something just to survive, but that was a far cry from robbing banks and trains like Arthur had just mentioned like they were nothing. Is this really what I wanted?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, where else was I going to go? Sure, I could go be on my own again. But then I wouldn’t have anyone else watching my back. I wouldn’t be sure that I would have something to eat each day. I wouldn’t have a bedroll in a warm, dry tent to curl up in each night. If I really thought about it, I didn’t think that anyone I had met at the camp was a bad person. In fact, many of them were some of the best people I had ever met. If they could still be good people and be in this gang, then maybe there would still be some hope for me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time I was able to pull myself back out of my thoughts, we were already back on the trail leading into camp again. I found a spot to hitch Aurora and found a sugar cube to give her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You keep feedin’ her like that, she’ll be well behaved for you in no time,” I heard Arthur’s voice from behind me. I have Aurora one last pat on the neck before turning around to find him smirking at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, hopefully I can get her to listen to me without making her fat at the same time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will. She’s a good horse, won’t take too long. Just don’t let her get away with anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We were interrupted by Dutch calling out from his tent for everyone to stop what they were doing and come over. I raised my eyebrows at Arthur in a silent question, but he just shrugged as we made our way over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dutch was standing on the platform in front of his tent, his eyes scanning over the gathering people. He had an air of complete control and confidence, almost like a king. I couldn’t quite decide if it was something I was drawn to or afraid of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“People!” Dtuch rasped, making the camp fall quiet in front of him. “Blackwater has been going well for us these past weeks. I am proud of the work that every one of you has been doing. But now...now we need a big score. And we have found one. But, ladies and gentlemen, we will need all of your help. We are gonna rob us a ferry.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooooooooo big things are happening!</p>
<p>Also, I know absolutely nothing about horses, so forgive me for any nonsense that was included :P</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The camp was buzzing with activity like I had never seen before. Everyone had a job to be doing, whether that was packing up the camp to leave by the end of the day or preparing for the heist in Blackwater that we would be leaving for any minute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We had spent the last two days planning exactly what would be happening. There were only going to be a few people for the entire camp that wouldn’t be participating, inlucing Arthur and Hosea who needed to use the day to wrap up their real estate scam they had been working the past weeks we had been in Blackwater. It seemed like some people were a little worried about running the ferry job without Arthur, but Dutch insisted that we would be getting in and out without any problems. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As we planned, I had to walk away periodically to get myself away from Micah. The man got on my every last nerve. It turns out he was the one who had told Dutch about this ferry and how much money was supposed to be on it, something like $150,000. It would be a good take if he was right, but that bastard was already walking around the camp like he was Christ himself. The last thing we needed around here was to give him a bigger head, but here we were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was pulled from my thoughts by Dutch calling us over near the horses at the very edge of camp. “Everyone!” he began, quieting everyone with his voice. “It is time! With this big score, we will be that much closer to starting the life that we all deserve. You all know what to do, don’t lose your heads. Let’s ride!” With that, we mounted up and headed to the score that was supposed to change the way we were living.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>About halfway between the camp and the town, we split off into smaller groups so we wouldn’t attract any unneeded attention with the number of people and horses all together. I was in one of the first groups to board the ferry with Jenny and Karen. We would at least start out together before splitting up as the ferry left the dock, playing the damsel in distress to distract some of the guards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As we got in line to board the ferry, I looked around at the town around us. My eyes caught on a building just across the street from where we were standing - the police station. What the hell had Micah Bell gotten us into?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I did my best to forget about the idea of the police right across from us as I gave my ticket to the worker, smiling sweetly at him. He checked the ticket, gave me a tight smile in return, and waved his hand for me to board the ferry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No turning back now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny and Karen had already split off from me, so I spent the time wandering aimlessly around the boat, as if I were just appreciating the views. I watched out of the corner of my eye as others from the gang boarded the boat as well, noting how they carried themselves as if they were completely calm. I tried to do the same despite the knot growing in my stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The worker that had been taking tickets called out looking for anyone else with a ticket that still needed to board. That was my cue to find a guard. I didn’t have to look hard, there were plenty to choose from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, sir!” I called to one, waving my hand to get his attention. He came over to me quickly. “My boy, my little boy, I don’t know where he’s gone off to! I’m just terribly worried, please, I need help to find him!” I hoped that a missing child would take up a few guard’s attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try not to panic, ma’am,” the guard said. “We’ll find your son. How old-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was cut off by a gunshot and a woman’s scream. I couldn’t tell from where.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then another shot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They just kept coming, more and more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guard pushed me as gently as he could behind a box, warning me to stay there, as he and the others that had been standing nearby ran to go see what was going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gunfire was nearly constant now. I couldn’t tell how many people were firing, but it sounded like a lot. More than just the people we had brought with us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stayed behind the crate, trying and failing to decide what the hell I was supposed to be doing. We hadn’t bothered to come up with any contingency plan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gunshots were still coming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another body suddenly appeared next to me, and I almost screamed in panic until I saw it was John. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We gotta get the hell outta here!” he rasped, his breath coming quickly. All I could do was nod in agreement. He cautiously peeked over the crate towards the dock - the only exit. He grabbed my wrist and all but dragged me along behind him as he moved us to another crate to duck behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We moved that way down the length of the boat. Peek, run, hide, peek, run, hide. By the time we had made it almost to the front of the boat, it was clear that this is where most of the shooting was happening. Also clear that the police from the station across the street had come running.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stayed ducked behind something - I couldn’t bring myself to notice what - I just tried to control my breathing while John popped up and back down, over and over again, shooting at God knew who. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where was Jenny?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Karen?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lenny, and Sean, and Dutch?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t think about them now. John and I had to get out of the line of fire first. Only then could I find my family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>John flashed his eyes my way, only for a moment, just long enough to tell me, “get ready to run.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I watched as he rose above our cover and fired off as many shots as he could before grabbing my arm and sprinting off the ferry, keeping our heads as low as we could from the gunfire that was still ricocheting around us, no sign of slowing down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We ran down the dock and straight to the horses. I swung myself up in the saddle as quickly as possible and dug my heels into Aurora’s sides to follow John out of town. I turned to look behind me only long enough to see Dutch, Lenny, and Javier starting to run for the horses as well. They wouldn’t be far behind us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turned to face forward again, sticking close to John as he led us on a winding path back to camp, keeping his revolver in his hand the whole time. I didn’t see any others behind us as we rode, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. They would have taken a different, indirect route back to keep from being followed, just as we were. Even so, John and I were the first ones back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve gotta get everyone loaded up and get out of here!” John called before he had even directed his horse to stop completely. Miss Grimshaw took one look at his face and started barking orders even more severely than she usually did. Everyone jumped into action without complaint, and after spending the last several days packing up we were starting to move out of the camp in the next fifteen minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Others from the ferry kept appearing with us as we moved, but some were still missing. Dutch was as the front, issuing orders. No one dared to talk about what had just happened. The only words being muttered between us was that we were heading north. And fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a sharp cry from our left, and I turned to find two horses riding towards us. A myriad of weapons were aimed that direction until we could see that it was Lenny and Karen. Lenny was holding something in front of him-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My breath caught in my throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Jenny, bright blue dress stained red, slumped over in Lenny’s arms. Not moving. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the wagons stopped just long enough for Jenny to be loaded in and I directed Aurora to ride alongside it. Karen had hopped in the wagon as well to check on Jenny to see what could be done for her. I watched the blonde lean over Jenny checking her breathing, her heart rate - </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And only a moment later, she looked up at me, tears threatening to spill over, and shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had to bite back a sob as I nodded back to Karen to let her know I understood. I rode up ahead towards Dutch to let him know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We couldn’t stop long enough to bury her yet. We were going to have to wait until we found somewhere safe to stop. If we found somewhere safe to stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the quietest caravan I had ever been a part of. The only noises were the creaking of wagon wheels, the horses’ hooves on the ground, and the whispers of news being passed from person to person - most of it not positive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jenny was dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Davy was shot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mac was left behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sean was missing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Pinkertons were trying to catch up with us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I felt numb as we continued riding. How could things have gone this wrong? We had spent days planning, had been sure that this would be an easy job. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I lost track of time as we rode. It kept getting colder and colder as we moved farther north. We even started to see snow. From the whisperings through the caravan, I learned that we were heading all the way into the Grizzlies, as Dutch was sure that we wouldn’t be followed there. I was less convinced by his confidence than I usually was. He had been convinced the ferry job was going to go well, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dutch had sent some of the men ahead to scout out a place we may be able to stop, but it still felt like days, months even, that we were riding. The snow turned biting. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, finally, Dtuch decided we could stop in an old abandoned mining town called Colter that Arthur had found. The buildings looked like they could cave in at any moment, but it was still better than the wind and snow outside. He gathered us all into one of the buildings, and we all pressed close to try and warm up as best as we could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Dutch could start talking, Abigail stood up from where she had been looking after Davey to announce, “Davey’s dead.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A silence around us grew heavier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dutch was the first to speak. “There was….nothing more you could have done.” Abigail nodded in response, but stayed quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are we gonna do?” Hosea cut in. “We need supplies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, first of all,” Dutch tried to put on his usual authoritative voice but you could still hear the worry behind it, “you’re gonna stay here and you are gonna get yourself warm. Now, I sent John and Micah scouting out ahead. Arthur and I, we’re gonna ride out, see if we can find one of ‘em.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In this?” Arthur’s gruff voice responded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just for a short bit. I don’t see what other choice we have.” He finally turned his full attention to the rest of us. “Listen! Listen to me, all of you, for a moment. Now, we’ve had...well, a bad couple of days. I loved Davey, Jenny...Sean, Mac, they may be okay, we don’t know. But we lost some folks. Now, if I could throw myself in the ground in their stead, I’d do it...gladly. But, we’re gonna ride out and we are gonna find some food. Everybody, we’re safe now. There ain’t nobody following us through a storm like this one, and by the time they get here, well, we’re gonna be...we’re gonna be long gone. We’ve been through worse than this before. Mr. Pearson, Miss Grimshaw, I need you to turn this place into a camp. We may be here for a few days. Now, all of you...all of you...get yourselves warm. Stay strong. Stay with me. We ain’t done yet!” With that, he turned and left, Arthur trailing behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, Pearson and Grimshaw put us all to work, taking stock of what we still had and putting it to good use. Without speaking, we got bedrolls laid out, fires burning, and found as many blankets and coats as we coud. I could barely feel my fingers as I worked, but we had no other choice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I tried to work as closely as I could to Abigail, who was silently worried out of her mind about John. He hadn’t been back in a while after Dutch had sent him scouting, and after everything else that had been going wrong...I couldn’t blame her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a couple of hours before the camp was set up, but as we finished Abigail and I sat near to the door in the women’s cabin, straining our ears for any sign of the men returning, hoping that John would be with them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was nodding off without meaning to when we heard a shout from outside. In a flash, Abigail and I were up and out the door to see who was coming back, most of the rest of the camp on our heels. This time, though, it was Dutch, Arthur, and Micah again. I could feel Abigail deflate next to me when she realized that John wasn’t there. There was someone else with them, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Micah found a homestead,” Dutch started explaining as they came into camp, “but he weren’t the first. Colm O’Driscoll and his scum, they beat us to it. We found some of them there but there is more about apparently scouting a train.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the last thing we need right now, Dutch,” Hosea sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it is what it is, but we found some supplies, some blankets, a little bit of food, and this poor soul, Mrs. Adler. Miss Tilly, Miss Karen, would you warm her up, give her a drink of something. And, Mrs. Adler, it’s gonna be okay. You’re safe now.” Karen and Tilly did what they were asked, bustling this new Mrs. Adler into the women’s cabin where we had just come from. Abigail followed along, trying to keep herself busy until John made it back. Dutch lowered his voice a bit as he continued talking to the rest of us that were still there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The turned her into a widow...animals. I need some rest. I haven’t slept in three days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re over here,” Miss Grimshaw jumped in, directing Dutch over to where we had set up his things. “Mr. Morgan, we put you over here,” she pointed out where Arthur was set up as well. He thanked her, but didn’t head inside just yet, instead turning to where I was standing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I couldn’t read the look on his face. The last thing that I needed was his attitude, but I wasn’t about to let him spout off some bull shit to me without me fighting back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I had barely opened my mouth to speak before he closed the distance between us in two strides and wrapped his arms around me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stood for a moment, frozen. What in hell was this? Just as quickly as the hug started, he stepped back again. He didn’t bring his eyes up to meet mine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just...well…” he started muttering, struggling to find the words he wanted, “I didn’t know where you was for a while there. Wasn’t sure if you were hurt, or…” he trailed off, but I knew what he was trying to say. “I’m just…I’m glad you’re safe, is all.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>I tilted my head, looking him over as I searched for words myself. “Arthur I...what am I supposed to say? We’ve been at each other's throats the whole time I’ve been in the camp, and now you come up and just...give me a hug?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>He ran a hand over his face, getting frustrated already. “You really gonna bite my head off about me tryin’ to be nice?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not biting your head off, I’m just asking what this whole thing is about!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quit hollerin’, woman!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ain’t hollering, I’m just saying!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, you always just saying! What am I supposed to do, apologize because I care about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That shut me up. He...</span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean by that, Arthur?” I all but whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...care about you, is what I said. I, uh...well, I can’t say I was as worried about everyone else as I was about you. Don’t know why that is because you get on my every last damn nerve. But that’s what happened, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arthur…” I opened and closed my mouth at least twice, in what was likely a horrible imitation of a fish. Finally, I decided not to say anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I leaned forward and kissed him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kind of a short chapter, but it's been a while so I wanted to get it up here! </p><p>I also started another fic for the Throne of Glass series of books that I just finished. If you haven't read them, you should! They are AMAZING!  </p><p>Thanks for all the love and support and kudos and comments! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I kissed Arthur Morgan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not only had I kissed him, he didn’t push me away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he had said that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me. And this is what I thought he meant by it. I must have been just a little bit right, too, if he wasn’t pulling away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I found myself noticing how soft his lips were, and how he smelled like a campfire and cigarettes and leather even after riding for the better part of three days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But just as suddenly as I had decided to kiss him, I broke the kiss as well, turning on my heel and striding back towards the women’s cabin. Arthur said nothing as I walked away - but, then, neither did I. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dared a quick peek back at him as I shut the door to the cabin behind me. He was still standing, planted in the same spot, staring after me as if he wasn’t quite sure what had just happened was real. I didn’t wait to see how long he stood there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cabin was quiet, the only sounds benign the crackle of the fire and the murmurs of Tilly, and Karen as they did their best to comfort Mrs. Adler. I made my way into the corner of the room, plopping myself next to Abigail and nestling into her blanket with her when she offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” she whispered, keeping as quiet as she could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m...I don’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This has been...well, I guess I don’t know either. A hell of a couple days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded in agreement, chewing at my bottom lip. “I...uh...I kissed Arthur,” I finally blurted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t bother trying to hide her surprise as she hissed at me, “You did </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was acting like an ass again, and then he said that he cared about me, and I just...kissed him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He pissed you off, so you kissed him,” Abigail loosed a breath and shook her head, but I could see she had a small smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose that may be a simple version of what happened, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” she sighed, “maybe something good might come out of all this bull shit after all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We both fell silent then, reflecting on the events of the last few days and what still needed to be done to ensure we were safe. It was hard to keep my thoughts from drifting to what I had done out in the snow. The feeling of Arhtur’s lips on mine was the last thing I thought about before drifting off to sleep, my head resting on Abigail’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We all woke early the next morning, despite the long few days we had had. The cold blowing through the cracks in the walls made it impossible to sleep any longer. Many of us braved the snow for the short trek into the larger cabin where Hosea, Dutch, and Arthur all had their rooms. It had a larger fire we could all squeeze around to keep warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was pressed between Abigail and Tilly, and I could help but notice the way Abigail’s eyes seemed almost glazed over as she mindlessly chewed on her thumb nail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something wrong, Abby?” I asked, my voice seeming booming in the quiet of the cabin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s John,” she blurted almost immediately. “He ain’t been seen in days. And the weather ain’t let up.” As if on cue, the door to the cabin opened, bringing with it the biting wind and snow. Arthur stepped into the cabin and pushed the door closed behind him as quickly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s strong,” Abigail continued, “and he’s smart. Strong, at least.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur came and joined us near the fire, trying to warm up his hands as best as possible. “Hello, Arthur,” she greeted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abigail.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, how you doin’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just fine, Abigail, and you?” I could tell from his tone that he was already expecting her to ask for a favor. Abigail bit her lip, thinking, as she noticed the wary tone in his voice as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to…” she started, “I-I’m sorry to ask but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s little John,” he finished for her. “He’s got himself caught into a scrape again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He ain’t been seen in two-” Abigail’s voice caught before she could finish. “Two days.” The last words came out as a whisper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your John’ll be fine. I mean, he may be as dumb as rocks and dull as rusted iron, but that ain’t changing because he got caught up in some snowstorm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least go take a look,” Hosea interjected, overhearing their conversation. “Javier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” the other man responded quickly from where he was bundled in his poncho. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Javier, will you ride out with Arthur and take a look for John? You’re the two best fit men we’ve got.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now?” Javier questioned, his eyes flitting to the snow blowing through the space under the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s…” he gestured vaguely at Abigail, “we’re all...we’re pretty worried about him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javier sighed. “I know if the situation were reversed, he’d look for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur shook his head but started pulling his gloves back onto his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail shot out of her seat and went over to the men. “Thank you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur just nodded in response, and caught my gaze once more, before heading out of the cabin once again with Javier close behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abigail all but collapsed back into the seat next to me. I took her hand in mine, both for sharing warmth and for reassurance. “They’ll bring him back,” I promised her, ignoring the pit in my stomach that had grown as I had watched Arthur trudge back into the driving snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact that almost the whole camp was in this one cabin, one room, together, there was very little chatter throughout the day. Both Davey and Jenny had been buried, and their absence along with John, Sean, and Mac, weighed heavily on everyone. Even Jack remained quiet, taking his cues from all the adults around him, content to snuggle into a blanket near the fire and spend much of the day napping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I heard bits and pieces about Miss Adler throughout the day, none of them good. Karen had mentioned that she didn’t sleep a wink that night, wouldn’t even close her eyes to try, and it was no wonder. I don’t know that I would want to sleep either if I watched a violent gang murder someone I loved and burn down my home. I wasn’t sure that someone could ever truly recover from something like that. Just the look in her eye - dull and empty, as if she had watched the world shatter right in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was already starting to set when we heard Arthur shout from outside. Abigail bolted out of the cabin as fast I had ever seen her move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need some help here!” I heard Arthur call, as several of us rushed out behind Abigail. John was sitting on the horse behind Javier - barely. He had seen better days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, help him down,” Javier instructed, barely able to be heard over Abigail’s excited shouts and cries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill rushed forward, reaching up to help John down onto the ground, but froze as John let out a sharp cry of pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ay, careful!” Javier reprimanded. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Idiotas,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s his leg!” Besides the injured leg, I had a hard time taking my eyes away from the massive gashes ripping their way down John’s face, still leaking blood. Who knows what the hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>those</span>
  </em>
  <span> were from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s get you warm,” I heard Abigail murmured, letting John lean on her as they made their way slowly into the cabin. She turned briefly to look back at Arthur and Javier. “Thank you. Thank you both.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they made it to the cabin door, I could already hear her scolding John for being gone so long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hung around outside for just a moment, watching as Hosea clapped a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Thank you, Arthur. And you, Javier.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got any other lost maidens need savin’?” Arthur drawled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hosea let out a soft chuckle. “Not today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two men turned their shoulders away from the cabin and tipped their heads together to have a more private conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could imagine what it might be about: </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the hell are we going to do now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a short conversation, only another moment before Hosea turned back to the cabin to get out of the snow. Arthur caught my eye as he turned back to his horse, jerking his chin toward the stable as an indication to follow him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silently, we trudged through the snow, Arthur leading the horse and me a few steps behind him. Even when we reached the stable, he started unbuckling the saddle before either one of us said anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what happened to Marston?” I finally broke the silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur kept working as he spoke. “Some wolves found him. With how bad they got his leg, he just got himself in a ditch to protect from the wind a bit more ‘til we found him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So those scratches on his face are from a wolf?” I shuddered a bit at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. Why, you worried it’s gonna ruin his pretty face?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes at his quiq. “Well, I know Abigail is real appreciative of you bringing him back. She was worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded but stayed quiet. I knew this wasn’t what he wanted me to come to the stables with him to talk about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I owe you an apology after last night,” he finally said, starting to brush off his horse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I scoffed. “Arthur, I was the one who...who did it. Kissed you, I mean. Maybe I should be the one apologizing.” Is that what he was looking for? For me to apologize to him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t like I stopped you,” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you’re mad about? That you didn’t stop me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Weren’t acting like much of a gentleman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed, getting frustrated. “Arthur, I am a grown woman. I’m gonna kiss you if I want, and not kiss you if I don’t want. I don’t need no </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentleman</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stop me because he thinks that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one making a mistake. If you didn’t want me to kiss you, you had every right to walk away. But if you don’t got an issue with it, then I don’t either. I need </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get off you damn high horse and realize that I can make my own decisions.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s eyes flashed to mine, but just as quickly turned back to his work. “Well, then, it looks like whatever happens, it ain’t gonna stop us bickering, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I barked out a laugh at that, and even caught the corners of Arthur’s mouth turning up into a smirk. “No, I suppose it won’t.” I bit my lip and looked down at the ground between my feet, thinking for a moment. “Did you really mean what you said last night?” I finally blurted. “About caring about me, I mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He froze for just a moment before starting to brush the horse again. “Yeah. I did mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...um...well, thank you. I guess...I was really worried about you too.” Finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he put down the brush and stepped towards me, actually looked at me, as I kept talking. “I didn’t know where you and Hosea had gone for that scam that morning. I wasn’t sure if you were still in Blackwater, or if you knew that everything had gone to hell on the ferry. All I could think about until you showed up to the caravan was that no one knew where you were and wondering if...if you had ended up like Jenny, but...but without anyone there.” I started to feel the sting of tears behind my eyes, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the idea that Jenny was gone or remembering how helpless I had felt before Arthur had reappeared. Maybe a combination of both. Arthur must have noticed the silver gleam in my eyes threatening to spill over, and he stepped forward, wrapping me in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, those tears started to fall. “I miss Jenny,” I whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, sweetheart.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur let me stay there for as long as I needed despite the cold and the wind. I wrapped my own arms around his middle, letting his big frame support me as I cried quietly. Everything had gotten so fucked up over the last few days, but somehow I still had this - had </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> - to fall back on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re safe,” I added with a shuddering breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled me to him almost imperceptibly tighter, whispering “My girl,” as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I guess that’s what I was now. Arthur Morgan’s girl.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry it's been so long, y'all. Work has gotten crazy busy. But now I have to quarantine again for a while, so hopefully I'll have more time???</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>We spent a few more days in the mountains before Dutch decided it was safe enough to move again. Hosea knew of a spot near a town called Valentine that he was sure we would be able to hide out in, so we started heading east. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When all the rest of the wagons were packed, one was still waiting, mostly empty. I helped get John lying in the back of that wagon as the rest of the gang mounted up or found a seat. I made sure John was as comfortable as he could be considering the circumstances before leaving Abigail to take care of him on the ride and searching for a spot for myself. I ended up in the back of a wagon with Hosea and Arthur. I couldn’t say I was disappointed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip was relatively quiet. There wasn’t much for anyone to say after the drama of the last several days. Instead, most of us were content to watch the transition from the snow packed mountain to greener grass as we traveled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had to admit, Hosea picked a beautiful spot for us to make our camp. I usually wasn’t a huge fan of the plains for New Hanover, but the land seemed all the better when comparing it to the frozen wasteland we had just escaped from. Although the weight of the missing camp members hung over us all, as we worked to set up our new home the weight seemed to lessen a bit. We were all finally warm. We weren’t being chased. John had been found alive and mostly in one piece.  While I wouldn’t say that things were </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet, they were at least getting better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nearly collapsed into my bedroll when the sun had just started to set, falling into a deep sleep, comforted by the relative safety and warmth of the new camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I awoke early the next morning, taking a moment before I got out from under the blankets to appreciate the fact that I was not shivering. Smiling to myself, I dressed quietly so as not to wake Tilly and got a cup of coffee before putting myself to work. As we unpacked the day before, everyone had made one large pile of clothes that had been damaged in the chaos of our escape. I picked through the clothes, trying to find a few items that I could get started mending. I grabbed a few shirts, all torn from catching on items as we moved from place to place or split at the seams from working to get items packed up. I tried not to think as much as some of the other articles of clothing that I did not select, damaged from bullets coming too close or torn open from wild animals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took the shirts with me, found a needle and thread, and settled myself on the edge of the camp looking out over the plains as the sun kept rising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I lost myself in the simple work, letting my mind wander as I sewed. I had gone from an unsure and unlikely member of the Van der Linde gang to a whole-hearted participant. I helped them run from the law after a botched robbery, for God’s sake. But what was actually on the forefront of my mind was what had happened between Arthur and myself the evening before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My girl,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he had said. And he kissed me, instead of the other way around this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t deny that I had feelings for him. Though, sometimes those feelings were that I absolutely couldn’t stand the man. Maybe I was just being stupid about the whole thing. Maybe arguing and bickering like we did was better than not feeling anything at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if he had read my mind, I heard the scuff of boots behind me and turned to find the man himself standing there, a thumb hooked in his gun belt and a smirk on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You been real quiet today, sweetheart,” he said by way of greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I raised the shirt I was mending up out of my lap. “Been busy. Y’all are gonna run out of things to wear if someone doesn’t do it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over at the stack of clothes next to me that I had already finished mending. “Looks like you’ve been sewing near all day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna take a break? I was gonna head into Valentine, meet up with Charles and Javier, if you wanna go with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I folded the shirt I had just finished with, adding it to the pile as well. Blinking, I realized I must have been working far longer than I had realized if I had finished all that was there. “I’d be happy to go with,” I finally decided. Something tightened in my chest at the way Arthur’s smirk turned into a true smile at my answer. He reached a hand down to help me up before leaning down and taking the clothes to put away, leaving my hands empty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can carry that stuff myself, Arthur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you can, but I would like to do this for you. That alright with you, ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just rolled my eyes at his snark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he deposited the clothes at one of the tables so that everyone could claim what was theirs, we made our way over to the horses in companionable silence. I patted Aurora on the nose and gave her a peppermint as a treat before climbing up into the saddle to follow Arthur out of the camp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ever been to Valentine before?” he asked, glancing over to where I rode next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I have. Been a long while, though” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you make your way all the way over here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I paused, thinking for a moment. “It was just me and my mother up this way. We kinda ended up in Valentine by accident, really. We went to the train station in Armadillo, if I’m remembering correctly, and mama just got a ticket on whatever train was leaving next. Just so happened that it took us to Valentine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur stayed quiet next to me, but I could tell he was paying attention. More like he was waiting for the rest of the story. I let the silence continue for a few beats longer, anyway, before I continued talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were...well, my daddy wasn’t the nicest person in the world. Finally, mama had enough and decided it was time for us to leave. But when we got here, we didn’t even get to stay long. Got ourselves a meal and got back on a train again. Can’t say I was disappointed we left though, there wasn’t much to the town besides mud and a saloon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems like you went a long way just to leave again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip, thinking hard about what to say next. How much information was he really looking for? Or did he want to hear at all? “We were worried that my daddy would have followed us there. Or, at least sent someone to follow us there. We were trying to keep him from finding us again. My mama wasn’t going to let us go back there, no matter what.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was there somethin’ that made her leave?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Laid a hand on her one too many times,” I muttered, not able to bring my voice any louder than that. “He’s one mean son of a bitch.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was grateful that Arthur nodded, but stayed silent next to me. I took that time to drag myself out of my thoughts again. I wasn’t with my daddy anymore. I was with Arthur. And for all I knew, my daddy was dead anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We had already made it to the edge of the town anyway. I schooled my face into an expression that I hoped was at least mildly pleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said we were meeting Javier and Charles here?” I asked Arthur, half to prove to myself I was okay and half to prove the same to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. I think they’ve been here most of the day, trying to see what all is going on in the town.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t necessarily surprise me Javier would end up in the saloon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ignored the tightening in my chest at the way Arthur smirked at my words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was surprised when we were already hitching our horses in front of the saloon. The town was much smaller than I remembered it from years ago, but I had been much younger then. I followed Arthur inside, and we found the other two easily, leaning up against the bar with two women in tow. Even so, Javier was quick to call us over to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come here, come here!” I heard the man call over the din of the saloon. “Come over here, Arthur, I want to introduce you to my friends.” He gestured to the two women that were with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pleased to meet you.” I stifled a laugh at Arthur’s gruff, disinterested voice. These were clearly working women, and he was less than impressed that this is what his companions were doing with their time when they were supposed to be looking for jobs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, ain’t you just the tough-as-teak mountain man?” one of the women drawled, looking Arthur up and down in a way that made me bristle. It seemed from his posture that he was feeling similarly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you be quiet, Anastasia,” the other girl quipped. “Anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat.” Some of my annoyance melted at that, and instead I had to fight a grin. There was no way Arthur was going to let that one go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Javier jumped in, noticing Arthur’s annoyance and trying to run interference. “Yes, he’s a pussy...cat. Ain’t that so, Arthur?” I couldn’t stop my eye roll now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say,” Arthur muttered. I let out a breath in relief. He wasn’t going to make a scene like I had worried about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much you cost, anyway?” he continued suddenly. My eyes widened, realizing I had been wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, ain’t that a nice way to talk to a lady?” the one called Anastasia snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur opened his mouth to respond again, likely something even more offensive, but I stepped forward before he could speak. I wrapped my arms around his middle, looking up at him from under my lashes before turning my gaze to the other two women. “So sorry, ladies,” I trilled, my voice grating even to my own ears. “He’s taken.” I batted my lashes at them in mock sweetness before looking back up to Arthur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, Arthur,” I took a tone as if I were talking to a child, his brows raised slightly in surprise. “You know better than to lead these poor women on. We’ve talked about this!” As I spoke, the two women murmured their excuses to Javier and Charles before ambling away, off to find other clients to occupy their evening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they were gone, I stepped away from Arthur again, a smirking breaking across my face. “Were you really trying to start a fight with a couple of working girls, Morgan? What the hell would you do without me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Javier chuckled from where he stood, leaning against the bar with the casual gracefulness once again. “She’s got a point, </span>
  <em>
    <span>amigo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You’ve got quite the way with women.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A regular dandy and a charmer,” Arthur agreed sarcastically. It seemed from his reaction that he wasn’t quite ready for anyone to know about how our relationship had changed. I was fine with that. I wasn’t even sure that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> really knew how our relationship had changed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Arthur turned to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey for everyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bill’s supposed to meet us here too,” Charles pointed, putting his now-empty glass back on the bar. “Wonder where he is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh man, I dread to think about it,” Javier grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Our conversation was interrupted by the saloon doors slamming open, revealing Bill on the other side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, there he is!” Javier called. Almost immediately, Bill ran straight into another patron of the bar, shouting at the man as if it was his fault. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He about to kiss that guy or punch him?” Arthur asked from next to me, making me swallow a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, Bill raised his arm and hit the man square in the jaw. The bar erupted in chaos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three men around me all moved forward, jumping into the bar fight that was starting more quickly than I had ever seen. Arthur, however, only made it about a step before turning back to me again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quickly but discreetly, he slid a knife out of a holster on his hip and pressed it into my hand, making sure it was tucked behind me and hidden. “You use that if you need it,” he muttered, starting to gently but quickly move me behind the bar. “Stay here,” he ordered, and he was off, joining the fray with the other men. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kept my head ducked behind the bar as Arthur had instructed, hearing the sounds of shouting and breaking glass all around me. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that I could hold my own with this many drunk men, so I stayed where I was, listening closely for the voices of any of my companions to know they were still standing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, a booming voice cut above the din of the bar, “What the hell is going on down here?” I peeked around the corner of the bar to see a very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> large man stomping down the stairs. A myriad of voices started calling out, telling this man to stay out of it - Tommy, they were calling him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did anything but stay out of it. I heard his growl when he hit the bottom of the stairs, “Come here, you little greaser.” Javier wasn’t about to let that go. True to form, the much smaller man stepped right up and cocked his arm back. I winced, seeing that Arthur wasn’t far behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but watch as Arthur engaged Tommy, who was at that moment slamming Javier against a table over and over again. Javier rolled off to the side, forgotten for the time being, while Tommy took Arthur and all but threw him over the table. He hadn’t even stood up all the way again when the larger man came over and threw him through the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my lips. Ignoring Arthur’s directions to stay where I was, I went outside to see what would happen next. By the time I made it through the doors, Arthur had already lifted himself out of the mud and was squaring up against the larger man. I felt like I could do nothing but watch as the men threw punch after punch, until Arthur had Tommy pinned in the middle of the road, beating him senseless. Each time Arthur cocked his arm back, I realized that he wasn’t planning on stopping. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without giving myself time to think about what I was doing, I surged forward and grabbed Arthur’s arm before he could bring it down one more time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur!” I called to him, doing my best to grab his attention. He pauses in his motion, turning his face towards mine. I hadn ever seen a look like that in his eyes. It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> anymore, it was someone else - someone much more brutal than I knew Arthur Morgan to be. As quickly as I had grabbed his arm, I let go again, nervous about his expression despite myself. I blinked, and that fire behind his eyes was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won, Arthur,” I muttered, taking another step back away from him. He blinked once more, and stumbled off, ignoring not only me, but also Javier and Charles as well. We trailed behind him as he limped towards the general store. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We were interrupted by a familiar, booming voice. “Making new friends, I see,” Dutch seemed to appear out of nowhere. I glanced over, still trailing Arthur, and noticed another man with Dutch that I had never seen before. He was well-dressed, with a tailored suit and even a top hat. A stark contrast to the muddy street he walked on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look who we found sniffing about,” Dutch remarked, indicating the stranger. Arthur was finally looking in his direction and seemed to be coming back into himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger’s eyes scanned over the men I was with and landed on me, looking me up and down quickly before stepping forward and taking my hand in his to press a kiss to my knuckles. “Josiah Trelawny,” he introduced himself with a bow that matched the clothes he was wearing. I couldn’t help the slight blush that stained my cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you had gone to New York,” I heard Arthur grumble from somewhere behind me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And miss all this glamor?” Trelawny turned his attention away from me. “You must be joking. I went to Blackwater looking for you gentlemen, you know. You’re not very popular there, it seems.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” it was Dutch’s turn to grumble. “We ain’t too popular in Blackwater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We left a lot of money there,” Arthur added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And young Sean, it seems,” Trelawny pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes widened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sean?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Had this stranger seen him? He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive?</span>
  </em>
  <span> If it was true, it would be the best news any of us got in days...weeks, even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch seemed to echo my thoughts. “Sean?” You found him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I have. He’s being held by some bounty hunters trying to see how much money the government will pay them. I know he’s in Blackwater, but there’s talk of them moving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I met Arthur’s gaze for just a moment, and I knew that we had the same idea. We were going to get Sean back. We had to bring back what hope we could to the camp.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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